


Victor, Victor

by cosmosatyrus



Series: Victor, Victor [1]
Category: Star Trek (2009)
Genre: M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-06-11
Updated: 2009-06-10
Packaged: 2017-10-26 16:17:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 20
Words: 35,288
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/285343
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cosmosatyrus/pseuds/cosmosatyrus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Chekov can't stop thinking about sex, Uhura figures out his little secret.</p>
          </blockquote>





	1. Victor, Victor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chekov can't stop thinking about sex, Uhura figures out his little secret.

As with all normal, healthy, seventeen year old boys, all he could think about was sex. In the Academy, it was all physics, math, running, or video games. There was no time to think about girls, but now that he had free time the inevitable obsession began to take over his every thought like a worm in his brain, latching on to every little thing. "Why do the uniform skirts have to be so short?!" he muttered to himself in Russian, cursing and blessing whomever it was that designed them in one breath. He ran in his off duty hours, but not even that could get his mind off of sex. He ran past sick bay and when a pretty nurse winked at him, he blushed and ran harder, hoping to fend off the inevitable erection that would come from thinking of her big, soft... "Not now, Pawel." He ran all the way back to his quarters, surprised to find Lieutenant Uhura waiting at his door. "Lieutenant, so nice to see you!" His eyes were fixated on the way her thighs brushed against each other under her uniform.

"I'm up here," she grinned.

He blushed and looked up at the Lieutenant, "Wery sorry, Lieutenant. Please, come in." He opened the door and waited for her to enter first.

She gestured for him to go ahead of her, "After you."

"I cannot." He stubbornly waited in the doorway until she finally entered ahead of him. His parents had taught him to be a gentleman and in this case, it had the added benefit of affording him a view of Lt. Uhura's ample behind. He choked down the myriad erotic thoughts he was having. "Would you like something to drink, Lieutenant? Eh...I haf only water, I am afraid."

"We're off duty, you can call me by my first name." He scratched the back of his head, trying and failing to remember her name, "Nyota."

"Nyota, right, of course." He mapped out the curve of her body in his mind in equations and parabolas, shapes in three dimensional space, "Eh..." He blushed pink through his pale, almost transluscent skin, "Pawel. Pawel Andreiowich..."

"That's quite an accent you have, Pavel Andreiovich Chekov."

"Oh, well...eh..." He scratched the back of his head again, a little self-conscious.

"Alright, Pavel," she was growing impatient with the small talk. He'd dance around the issue all afternoon unless she addressed the problem directly, "I'm going to cut to the chase: You have a speech impediment."

"Ai, no! I was hoping you wouldn't notice!" He rattled off a string of curses in Russian, language he'd never use in front of a lady, not thinking that she might understand him. Nobody ever understood what he said.

"You are not an idiot, Pavel, and I'm certain your mother is a very nice woman."

"Ai, shit!" It was the first word he'd learned in English, even before "Hello, my name is..." and to him it was a meaningless syllable, not rude like the things he'd said before. "You speak Russian?!"

"I speak 83% of the official Federation languages including Russian, Swahili, Vulcan, and Klingon," she crossed her arms, "but I'm here to talk about you."

"Please," his big blue eyes would melt the coldest of hearts. He'd used this look on his mother and she'd almost always caved in for a treat or extra time playing video games, "do not tell anyone! Eweryone thinks...is only my accent. I've had this difficulty since I was wery small. I was so glad to go to San Francisco - nobody noticed. They only think, 'oh, is cute Russian boy, wery smart.' But now...I am so embarrassed. Please don't tell!"

She chuckled, "Relax, Pavel. I came here to help."

"You did?" He raised both eyebrows in an entirely un-Spocklike manner.

She nodded and patted the seat next to her, "Sit here." He did so, his knee accidentally brushing her thigh as he sat down.

"Wery sorry." He blushed again, thinking he'd die or his brain would explode when she patted his knee.

"Now, let's see how you say 'Victor.'" She watched his mouth intensely.

He adjusted his position in the hard standard Federation issue chair, "Wictor."

"Hmm..." she thought for a moment how to explain it to him, "Now bite your bottom lip, like this:" she bit her own bottom lip and vibrated the sound, "vvvvvv."

Pavel copied her, biting his lip and attempting the same sound, "vvvvvv."

"That was good!" She smiled, oh she had such a beautiful smile, "Now say 'Victor.'"

"Vwictor." He concentrated hard on how to make the sound, but couldn't make his mouth do what he wanted it to, "Show me again."

"Vvvvvv..." she leaned in closer so he could see how to place his teeth on his lips.

He copied her again, "Vvvictor." He moved closer, "Vvvvictor." She continued to make the sound for him to copy, letting him get closer, "Vvv-" Operating on pure instinct and hormones, he kissed her. Those beautiful parabolic lips had just been too much to resist.

She broke away, surprised, "Pavel!" Realizing that the wrong word could crush his ego, irreparably damaging his sense of self-worth, she gently touched his shoulder, "Pavel, I like you, just... not in that way." The sad puppy eyes nearly broke her heart, "I still want to be friends. Why don't we meet later in the mess hall for dinner - I heard rumors of chocolate brownies for dessert. We can pick this up again tomorrow..." she smiled in a way that made him feel at ease, "but with less kissing next time."

"Alright," he nodded, only a little dissapointed. "Promise you won't tell anyone?"

"I promise." She stood to exit and he went to the door to open it for her, "See you later, Pavel. I look forward to seeing you at dinner."

"I also look forward to it. Have a w-wv-wvery good afternoon." He forced out the "V" sound to make her smile.

"You too, Pavel." He watched her walk away, those muscular thighs swaying beneath her miniskirt.

When she was gone, he put his back to the closed door, looked up at the ceiling and sighed. "At this rate, Pawel, you will be fifty before you ewer get the girl." He then looked down at his right hand, "At least there is you. Let's take a shower, hmm?"


	2. The Birds and the Bees

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chekov still can't stop thinking about sex, so he talks to the good Doctor.

_  
****  
_

Chekov was beginning to develop a hatred for the ship's sonic showers. The hum of it was meant to be relaxing, but no soap and no water meant that he was clean, but decidedly unsatisfied. He thought about Lieutenant Uhura, the pretty nurse outside sick bay, his 20th century Earth history professor in the Academy... After a concerted effort, he came and his ejaculate went through the grate along with the day's dirt and sweat. Unsatisfied, he wondered how the Captain did it. All Kirk had to do was look at a woman and she'd melt and flutter. "Oh, Captain!" he mocked in his best falsetto, "You are so handsome! Take me to bed and have all the sex with me! - Ai!" He put on his Academy Marathon shirt and a pair of clean civilian pants, running to the mess hall.

Uhura was there as promised with an extra tray and Lieutenant Sulu, "Pavel!" she gave him a friendly wave, "I got you a tray - meatloaf again, but there's a chocolate brownie to make up for it."

"Thank you, Lieutenant." He tried for a winning smile, but ended up looking goofy.

Sulu grinned, "If you close your eyes, it almost tastes like real meat."

"Is not real meat?" Chekov's eyes widened. He never paid much attention to what he ate. Food was fuel and more often than not, he was preoccupied with physics or running or video games and didn't get enough of it.

"It's a textured soy protein with vitamins and artificial flavor additives." He held up the little dish of mashed potatoes, "I don't even want to know what this is." Chekov sat down and ate like the active seventeen-year-old he was. "Weren't you in my theoretical physics class? Professor Trzebiatowski?"

"Oh, da - eh, yes. I think the midterm was much too easy," he shoveled in more "potatoes."

Sulu laughed, "Easy? I almost had a nervous breakdown studying for that one!" Maybe it was his sex-crazed teenaged mind, but something about the way Sulu laughed made the young Ensign blush. "I never could wrap my head around Lorentz transformations in the context of post-relativist warp theory..."

"Is easy," Chekov beamed, "when welocity approaches warp..."

Commander Spock came in and left again and Uhura excused herself, "Here, Pavel, you can have the rest of mine. I'll leave you boys to talk."

Chekov watched her leave, _Damn those short skirts!_ , and continued to discuss the finer points of post-relativist warp theory with Sulu. It would have been a welcome break in his constant thoughts about sex if it weren't for Sulu's laugh. Chekov felt a stirring between his legs that forced him to readjust his position. He blushed again, rosy pink cheeks on pale white skin, "Are you alright, Pavel?" Sulu smiled, and it didn't help matters any. He had a beautiful smile.

"I was thinking I would run later..." he chuckled nervously, "but maybe I run now."

"I'll go with you. I've been sitting at the helm all day and could use some exercise."

His black hair, those high cheekbones...Chekov screamed inside his head, _No! No! Anything but that!_ , but he found himself nodding, "Okay."

They started walking to warm up, but the young Ensign couldn't bear to look at his fellow helmsman, "Slow down!" Sulu jogged to catch up.

"Sorry, Lieutenant," he tried to slow his pace a little, secretly wanting to break and run.

"Are you sure you're alright? You look overheated." Sulu was beginning to sweat, "Maybe you should see Doc McCoy."

"Okay." He changed his course toward the nearest turbolift, Sulu following after.

He barely made it into the turbolift behind Chekov, out of breath from chasing after him, "Deck five." The lift whirred toward their destination as Chekov jogged in place, trying not to look at the Lieutenant. "Wait a minute," Sulu grinned, "I know what the matter is..."

 _No, no, no, no! Please, if there is a God in the Uniwerse..._ He squinched his eyes, trying to hold back his thoughts.

"You have a crush on Uhura!" He laughed, "She's quite a woman, isn't she?"

"Y-yes!" Chekov nodded emphatically, "That is it." The door opened onto deck five and he ran toward sick bay, glad to be out of the confined space of the turbolift. "I will still see the Doctor. My knee is sometimes bothering me," which was true, but it was only an excuse. Chekov ran toward sick bay, leaving Lieutenant Sulu standing in the hall.

\--

Sick bay had been slow. Slower than slow. Doctor McCoy knew there would be times when casualties would come in so quickly he wouldn't have time to think, but not today, not yet. He'd already worked out the personnel for each shift and given an orientation to the new faces, some of them fresh out of medical school. There was nothing to do now but read medical journals until someone came in with some minor sniffle. That someone happened to be the young Ensign Chekov and he was glad for the break. He genuinely liked the boy and smiled when he came in, "Ensign Chekov, what brings you in today?" Doctor McCoy put down the PADD he'd been reading. The United Journal of Xenopathology was an interesting read, but patients always came first.

"My knee is bothering me."

"Well, let's take a look at it. Sit up on the bed." He took a tricorder and examined both knees, raising his eyebrows, "You've only got some minor inflammation, nothing serious." He took a small bottle of pills from a cabinet, "Here, take these for pain and for God's sake, stretch before you run."

"Yes, Doctor." He took the bottle of pills, but hesitated to leave.

McCoy smiled out of the side of his mouth, the sore knee was an excuse and he knew it, "Now, what did you _really_ come here for?"

Chekov looked around at all the people in sick bay, "I can speak to you...eh, in priwate?"

"Of course," he raised one eyebrow, intrigued at what it is the young Ensign might be concerned about, "come into my office." McCoy sat on the edge of his desk and crossed his arms, "Now, what seems to be the trouble?"

"All the time," Chekov threw up his hands in frustration, "I am constantly thinking about sex! I am not focusing on anything else, only sex all the time - this cannot be normal!"

McCoy grinned and then chuckled as he shook his head, patting the young Ensign's shoulder, "It's perfectly healthy for a boy your age to have these sorts of thoughts and there are a lot of pretty girls on the Enterprise. It's not surprising, really. I chased a lot of girls when I was seventeen."

"Is not only girls!" Chekov's accent was thicker when he was frustrated, "I am thinking about men also...eh, one in particular - is man I work with. I do not want to be so distracted when working!"

"Anyone I know?" He prayed to God it wasn't the Captain, but he had to know. Chekov closed his lips tight and shrank into himself, "This conversation is privileged, Ensign. Whatever you say won't leave this office and you have my word on that."

Chekov blushed more deeply, "Lieutenant Sulu," he said quietly through tight lips.

The Doctor smiled his crooked Southern smile, relieved, "I suggest you be honest with him, Chekov. This is the 23rd century and besides, Sulu's from San Francisco. The worst thing that could happen is he tells you he's not interested and then you're no worse off than you are now."

"What does San Francisco have to do with it?" Chekov's eyes widened in curiosity.

"I suggest you look into the city's history, particularly in the late 20th and early 21st century. You'll find that there's a long history of openmindedness about these things. In fact, most of current Federation policy on gender relations is derived from social movements that originated there." Chekov nodded, "Now, I can help you out with the clinical side of things, but I'm afraid I'm not much help in matters of the heart."

"Please, Doctor, there is no one else to talk to." He was using the big blue puppy eyes, his daughter used to do this when asking for just a few more minutes to read before bedtime, but the Ensign's pleading seemed sincere, "No one else knows but you!"

McCoy sighed and rubbed the back of his neck, "Alright." He gathered a few things from a drawer and threw them in a sack. He handed it to Chekov and crossed his arms in his best gentle but authoritative way, "Your chart says you've never had sexual relations before. There's condoms, lubricant, and a data tape in there. Just... take it slow, Ensign."

"Yes, Doctor." Chekov put the anti-inflammatory pills in the sack and left the CMO's office for his quarters. McCoy poured himself a brandy and relaxed, thinking about what it had been like when he was seventeen. In spite of how the laws had changed over the centuries, Georgia was still a place where a man could get his teeth kicked in for being homosexual. He took a sip and wondered if it was the same where Chekov grew up, resisting the temptation to make a comparison between his own backwater hometown and that other Georgia.


	3. Under the Apple Tree

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sulu asks Chekov if he'd like to see his orchids...

Their shift at the helm had been downright dull and if it hadn't been for the game of go fish he'd programmed into the conn, it would have been unbearable. There hadn't been so much as a single aberrant gravitational pull for at least an hour and a half. Chekov tapped the button that said "Go Fish" and entered a request to the Lieutenant for a three. A few seconds later, he received a notice, "Go Fish. Do you have any fives?" He sighed, clicked on the five in his hand, and dragged it to the box. He looked straight ahead at the viewscreen or at the conn, anywhere but at Sulu. He didn't want to turn around to face the Captain, either. The man always sat with his legs sprawled out and the fact that the Captain's chair was raised so that his crotch was practically at eye level didn't help much either.

"Hey, Pavel," Sulu was just as bored as he was, "what're you doing after our shift?"

"Eh..." He hadn't thought about it much, really, aside from some much-needed masturbation and perhaps a run. "I was thinking maybe I would go running...or play wideo games."

"Why don't you come down to the arboretum? I'd like to show you my orchids." Chekov found it nearly impossible not to take that as some sort of euphemism, "I've got some interesting varieties of ornamental trees as well. The apple tree is blooming."

"Does that mean we'll have apples, Mr. Sulu?" Kirk scrawled his signature on a PADD and winked at the blonde who'd brought it. She rolled her eyes and took the PADD back to the turbolift.

"Not unless you like crabapples, Sir," Sulu replied, "but if you come across a variety you like, I'd be happy to cultivate it for you."

"Uhura, send a message to the station at Argelius II, see if they've got any apple trees."

"Aye, Captain."

When their relief arrived, Chekov closed the game of Go Fish and joined Sulu in the turbolift. "Deck Nine." Sulu grabbed the handhold in the lift, waiting for Chekov to say something, "How's your knee?"

"Fine, thank you. Doctor McCoy gave me something to take." He stared at the door.

"Nothing serious, I hope," he leaned over, trying to get Chekov to look at him.

He glanced briefly, blushed, and looked away, "Eh...no, only 'minor inflammation,' he said."

"Something's going on with you, Pavel. You've been acting weird lately." Sulu furrowed his brow as his fellow helmsman wiggled around nervously in the turbolift.

"It is nothing." There was nowhere to run and he couldn't help but feel like a trapped animal.

"Uh-huh." He glared suspiciously at Chekov, who still wouldn't look directly at him, "You won't even look at me. Have I done something to make you mad?"

"Oh! No, no, no, no!" He shook his head, finally looking Sulu in the eye, "Nothing like that. We are friends, yes?"

"Right, so tell me what's wrong. We're friends, you can tell me anything." He smiled that beautiful Sulu smile.

"Anything?"

"Yes," he chuckled, "anything at all." The door whooshed open and Sulu led the way to the arboretum, "That's what friends are for." The arboretum was cool and lush with life, annuals mostly, and a few standard-issue arboretum trees. They were fast-growing oxygen producers with very little in the way of ornamental value, but there was a sapling cherry, a three-year-old crabapple, and a Japanese maple of a particularly rare variety. "I planted these when we came aboard for our five-year assignment." There was a walkway, an artificial stream, soft grass, and a ceiling that mimicked the Northern hemisphere temperate zone sky. According to the ship's clock, it was just before eighteen hundred hours and the arboretum light began to dim in almost imperceptibly small increments.

As promised, the crabapple tree was blooming and Chekov's eyes were as big as moons, "Oh, this is beautiful! I have nehwer seen this part of the ship."

"In a few years," Sulu smiled, his face framed with the pale pink blossoms. "I'll have this whole place looking like the Garden of Eden. The captain gave me permission to do with it as I like, so long as it doesn't adversely affect the ship or my duties."

Chekov couldn't help but look at the Lieutenant. He was so pretty - not pretty like a girl, but pretty all the same. He battled with himself about whether or how to tell him what had really bothering him the past few days, wondering if he'd sound stupid. _The Doctor said to be honest, so be honest, Pawel. Tell him you would like to have sex with him here on the grass. No, too honest. Kissing is good._ His thoughts soon degenerated, _I could kiss him on the mouth or maybe he would let me kiss his genitals...No! Focus, Pawel._ "Eh...you said I could tell you anything, yes?"

"Sure, Pavel, what is it?" Sulu smiled, it was a perfect smile, his dark eyes an irresistible gravitational pull.

"I...I would like to kiss you, but I do not know if you would like for me to kiss you," he blushed, his cheeks and ears rosy pink against pale skin. "I do not know if ewen you like boys, or if you... if you like me." Sulu leaned in closer, barely touching his lips to Chekov's, then deepening the kiss. A million things went through his head at once, thermodynamics equations, the gravitational pull between two objects in space, a thousand ways to express what he was feeling in archaic symbols and numbers, and the need to run as fast as he could away from this. But his legs would not move, _When grawitational pull is greater than or equal to Sulu, desire to run approaches zero_... _approaches..._ Sulu parted his lips slightly, allowing his tongue to touch the tip of Chekov's. _Desire to run is nil. New equation._

Sulu put his forehead against Chekov's and wrapped his arms around his narrow waist, "If I didn't like you, I wouldn't have invited you here."


	4. Victor, Victor: part 4, New Equation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chekov calculates the gravitational pull of Sulu

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uniform Code of Military Justice places the age of consent at sixteen.

His lips tingled, aching for another kiss, _G sub Sulu is greater than G sub Pawel, grawitational force being the inwerse square of distance, Pawel is attracted to Sulu ewen more when he is closer._ "Lieutenant Sulu..." he whispered.

"Hikaru." It was a breathy word, a foreign word, the most beautiful word he'd heard all day.

"Hikaru." _New equation. Spacetime dictates new movements,_ Chekov leaned in for another kiss, _Newtonian inwerse square law does not apply, substitute relatiwist equasion._ "I like kissing you." Being so close to another person made his skin tingle and the little hairs on the back of his neck stand up. _Polarization is not linearly proportional to electric field._ Suddenly aware of Sulu's hands around his waist and the way their hips pressed together, he felt himself grow harder and blush deeper, _Tensor density increases!_ His head was spinning with the rush of endorphins _Wector field constant...wector...wictor - Wictor!_ "Shit!"

Sulu pulled back, "What?! What is it?"

"I forgot! I am meeting Lieutenant Uhura today!" The cool, moist air of the arboretum rushed in where the warm Mister Sulu had been, "I have to go!" He backed away, resisting the pull of his obligation to the ship's communications officer.

"I'll see you in the mess hall later?"

"Da! Da! Yes! I will not be late!" Chekov sprinted to the closest trubolift and then to his quarters where Lieutenant Uhura waited with her arms crossed. He punched in the key code that opened his door and waited for her to enter ahead of him. She gestured for him to go ahead, but he shook his head "no" as he caught his breath.

"I was beginning to give up on you." Chekov took the sack Dr. McCoy had given him from the little table and stashed it in his dresser.

"I am wery so- eh, wvery sorry for being late, Lieutenant. I was with Hika- eh, Lieutenant Sulu in the arboretum to look at trees." He poured himself some water from the little sink and added a cherry-flavored electrolyte tablet, drinking the whole thing in one gulp.

Uhura's wicked smile spread across her lips, "He likes you, you know."

He did know, now, but held that kiss close and private, "You really think so?"

"Of course," the wicked smile became a mischievous grin, "He wouldn't take just anyone to the arboretum."

"Lieutenant," He ran his hand through the short curls on the back of his head, "I am a good kisser?"

"Well, to be honest, it was a little bit sloppy," The mischievous grin persisted, "but fortunately for you, I'm a linguistics expert. I know some exercises that will help and I can teach you some Swahili while we're at it." Chekov grinned from ear to ear, "Now, don't get any big ideas, Pavel. You'll have to practice your kissing on someone else."

At the end of his lesson, he thanked the Lieutenant and made his way to the mess hall for dinner with Sulu. _Mess hall seems farther away than usual. New equation. Desire to run, D sub r, increases as distance increases. Spacetime continues to bend. Wery strange. Increasing welocity to compensate. D sub r to Hikaru is greater than D sub r away from Hikaru. Given these factors, the only explanation is that Hikaru is a singularity._ He ran the rest of the way to the mess hall and found Sulu there with two trays, "You have a tray for me! Thank you!"

"What makes you think one of these is for you?" He playfully held the trays away from Chekov, grinning.

"Please?" Chekov made the big puppy eyes and reached for a tray. "It will take twenty minutes to go through the line!"

"Well, alright, but only because you look as though a strong wind could blow you away." He gave Chekov a tray and they sat down amongst the other officers. "I think it's supposed to be chicken. Maybe one of these days, I'll take you out for sushi."

Chekov twisted his face up and stuck out his tongue, "Sushi? Eeaugh."

"Have you ever tried it?" Sulu fixed upon Chekov's big blue Russian eyes.

"No, but," _New equation. Maintaining distance, welocity zero, ewent horizon allows for stable position when other people are watching._ "it is raw fish, da?"

"Sushi is the rice. There are some with fish and some without. There's this place not far from Starfleet Academy that has what they call a 'San Francisco roll' with avocado in it. I think you'd like it."

Sulu's smile was perfect, beautiful, _I'd eat a Denebian slime dewel if you asked,_ "I will eat sushi if you try potato vareniki."

"It's a deal."

"Oh! I am learning Swahili from Lieutenant Uhura! She is teaching me many useful things to say."

"Like what?"

"'Hello' is 'Hujambo' and 'How are you?' is 'Habari yako' and..." _Ja teb'a l'ubl'u!_ "Eh...'Ninakupenda'"

"What does that mean?"

He blushed pink, "It means 'I lowve you,' but it is easier to say in Russian. Ja teb'a l'ubl'u, Hikaru."

Sulu blushed and laughed a throaty chuckle, "I don't know what to say."

"You don't haf to say anything," he picked at his food, and stared at the peas and carrots, "but I would like to kiss you again, maybe...if you would like to."

"I think I would." There was a long, somewhat awkward silence before Sulu changed the subject. They'd be studying an Oort cloud in the Antares sector and Chekov was happy to babble on about the balance of aggregate forces and the movements of comets.

They continued to chat on the way back to Chekov's quarters after they finished eating, "Please, come in." He opened the door and let Sulu enter ahead of him. "I do not haf anything to offer to you. I haf only water and electrolyte tablets." Having Sulu in his personal quarters made him more than a little nervous. _New equation. Difficult to maintain stable positioning. Welocity zero. Proximity of Hikaru singularity increasing tensor density...Wector field unidirectional...Ewent horizon causing wery strange reaction: heart rate increase, dizzy, brain function scrambled._ He ran his hands through his sandy curls and squinched his eyes,  "Ai, I am a physicist, not doctor!"

"What?"

"Sorry, I was thinking about...equations about a singularity and the effects of the ewent horizon on a ship traweling at warp. Relatiwist theory accounts for a shift from inertial coordinate system to arbitrary, but when spacetime is bending around a singularity, a ship traweling at warp has to-" Sulu kissed him hard on the mouth, "recalculate the..." again Sulu's lips pressed against his own, "cowariant deriwatif."

"I love it when you talk physics."

Chekov wrapped his long arms around Sulu and closed his eyes, "I want you so much. I want to share my bed with you and feel you inside of me. I want to hold you so closely that we are one flesh. I want you to keep me warm in winter."

"I love it when you speak Russian." The next kiss was a light touch of the lips and Chekov's face flushed redder when their tongues touched. "What did you say?"

"Eh...I want to...I...I..want to..." his hips were pressed against Sulu's and he could only think about his muscular back, their naked flesh pressed together in his fantasy, "I want you to keep me warm in the winter, to...eh, to be naked wizh you. I don't know how to say it properly." His accent was thicker now that he was flustered, and Russian soon took over, "How do I say I want you to fuck me 'til I scream your name?"

"Oh, Pavel," Sulu stepped back and Chekov ached in the void, longing to be held close again, "I want to be careful. You're-"

Chekov threw up his hands, "Do not say I am so young! Do not say 'when I was your age.' Starfleet regulations say age of consent is sixteen; I am sewenteen. I haf been through ewerythink you haf and I am not some - Fucking Hell," curses came in Russian and he lost all control over pronunciation and diction, "I can zhink about nozhink but sex wizh you all zhe time! I don' know hvat to do!"

"I was going to say that you're an Ensign and I'm a Lieutenant. Regulations about fraternization are pretty clear." He put his hand to Chekov's smooth cheek, "I adore you, but I don't want to be reassigned or worse. I don't know what to do, either."

Chekov flopped onto his bunk and stared at the ceiling, "Ai, ai, ai."

"Hey, it's getting late. I gotta get some sleep." He kissed Chekov on the forehead and left for his own quarters.

"Lights." The lights turned out and Chekov was alone with his thoughts and fantasies in the pitch black. _New equation..._


	5. Good Order and Discipline

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's not what you think. Chekov and Sulu look for a loophole in Starfleet Regulation 5.6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't speak Russian - at all. I know a couple words in Polish, some of which are rude, but no Russian whatsoever. All phrases are taken from what brief internet research could provide.

McCoy was reading an article on the vector pathway of Andorian roundworms when Pavel Chekov walked in and sat down. That in and of itself was unusual. Ensign Chekov almost always ran in and fidgeted until he was seen. "How are you feeling today, Ensign?" Nurse Chapel smiled at him. She had a sweet bedside manner that complimented his own gruff nature. Sometimes a patient needed a woman's smile and soft touch and sometimes a patient, like the ever obstinate Jim Kirk, needed a stern scowl and a strong hand. Pavel Chekov needed a father figure.

"I got this one, Nurse. C'mon into my office, Ensign." He walked in and flopped into a chair, pouting and looking for all the world like a kicked puppy. "What seems to be the trouble?" Chekov didn't answer, "Don't tell me you're already out of prophylactics!" Chekov shook his head, "Well, what is it, son?"

"Starfleet Regulation 5, paragraph six, gowerning inappropriate conduct of officers." He slumped and pouted.

"Aaah, I see..." he crossed his arms and furrowed his brow thoughtfully, "Regulation five is there to protect crewmen from being taken advantage of and to maintain good order and discipline on the ship. A normal, healthy relationship between two junior officers is perfectly within regulations as long as it does not interfere with good order, discipline, authority or morale. In other words, keep your love life off the bridge and you'll be fine." He took a hypospray out of the same drawer where he kept a stash of condoms, "I forgot to give you this when you were here last time. It's a standard vaccination against a number of different sexually transmitted diseases - just a precaution." He pressed the hypospray to Chekov's neck, "If you do end up in bed with the Lieutenant, come in and I'll make sure to give you a complete scan. This," he held up the hypospray, "just covers the basics."

The kid was no longer mopey and had resumed his normal fidgeting, "Thank you, Doctor."

\---

Sulu grabbed the Captain by the waist and threw him to the mat, "Oof!" The Lieutenant offered his hand to the Captain, "Damn, Lieutenant, you're going to have to show me how you do that."

"It's a simple matter of knowing the physics of a human body, Sir." The Captain took his hand and pulled himself up.

"I'd like to think I'm pretty well-versed in the physics of the human body, as well as several other species. There was this one Rigelian girl in the Academy-" Sulu threw the Captain to the mat again, "Oof! At least, I _think_ she was a girl... I could've studied the physics of her body for a week." Sulu helped him up again.

"Can I ask you a question, Sir?" They sat on a nearby bench to rest for a moment. They'd been at it for an hour, but the persistent Captain wouldn't stop until he'd learned exactly how to do it. If that meant being thrown to the mat thirty eight times, he'd do it fifty.

"Sure, what's on your mind, Lieutenant?"

"Uh, I'm not sure how to say this..." Sulu towled off his face, "Permission to speak freely, Sir?"

"Absolutely."

"What's your interpretation of Regulation 5.6?" He offered his water to the Captain, who took several big gulps from the bottle, "I, uh, figured if anyone would know the regulations, you would, Sir."

Kirk laughed, bemused, "Gotta know the rules if you're going to break them. I don't fraternize with my crew, but that's me. There's a bit of a fudge factor for those who are fairly close in rank when promotion of the inferior officer falls to someone other than the superior officer in question - which makes Spock my only romantic option on the Enterprise. I don't see that happening in a million years. He's not my type." He furrowed his brow, curious as to why Sulu was asking about the fraternization regulations, "Is this about Spock and Uhura?"

Sulu smiled and shook his head, "No, Sir."

Kirk narrowed his eyes and examined Sulu, he'd seen that face before. Hell, he'd made that face before. Lieutenant Sulu had fallen for someone. Kirk mentally went through the duty roster, eliminating all but the most likely candidates. "Chekov."

"Sir?"

"Ensign Chekov: Skinny genius Russian kid, sits next to you at the helm?" Sulu's silence said everything, "Alright, listen. The regulation states that a relationship between two officers or two enlisted crewmen can't interfere with the good order, discipline, authority or morale of the ship. If you can't keep it professional while you're on the bridge, I'll have to reassign one or both of you. You're the best helmsmen in Starfleet and when, not 'if,' but when we get into a fix, I'll need you both at a hundred percent."

"Yes, Sir."

"And if you hurt him?" Kirk was as serious as he ever got, life-and-death serious, "I'll make you wish you never stepped aboard the Enterprise, is that clear, Lieutenant?"

"Yes, Sir. Perfectly clear."

Kirk slapped Sulu's shoulder and grinned, "One more time?"

The Lieutenant laughed, "Yes, Sir!"

\---

Sulu and Chekov practically crashed into each other in the hallway outside the mess hall.

"Hikaru! I talked to the doctor and-"

"The Captian said-"

Chekov grinned, "You first."

"I asked the Captain about Regulation 5.6. We're okay as long as we keep it professional on the bridge."

"Da! Doctor McCoy said this also!" Chekov rubbed his neck, "He also gave me wvaccinations. Maybe I should not go for adwice to paranoid Doctor..."

"Dinner at my place?"

"Okay! Maybe we play chess after?" He was practically bouncing at the opportunity to spend some time with Sulu.

Sulu kissed him on the cheek, "I adore you, Pavel."

\---

They did play chess after dinner. Chekov won, six times. He'd make a move, say "Check, mate" in Russian, and reset the board. Chekov was serious about chess and when he played, everything boyish about him melted away.

"You've beat me six games in a row, Pavel. I don't think I can take another hit to my ego." Sulu smiled and put his hand on Chekov's knee.

"One more! You are doing wery well. You will win the next one for certain!" He quickly reset the board and waited for Sulu to move. 

Sulu stood and ran his hand through Chekov's curls, "You said that the last time, too." He placed his other hand on the Ensign's smooth jaw and tilted his head back for a kiss.

"Okay. Chess can wait. Kissing now." Sulu's mouth was firm and strong and it felt good to feel his hands in his hair, "Milenky Hikarushka, dai ruku."

"I have no idea what you just said," Chekov kissed him more deeply and held his hand, "but don't stop talking."

"Lyubimi, zolotoi Hikarushka!" Sulu's kisses slid down to the soft spots on Chekov's neck, to a place just underneath his black uniform undershirt.

He took off Chekov's gold overshirt and tossed it aside, backing away for a moment to look at him in all black, eyes half closed and lips pouting, cheeks blushing pink. "Wow. You are just beautiful." Sulu took his own gold shirt off, "Tell me what's going on in that brilliant, beautiful mind of yours."

"I am thinking..." Chekov looked up to the ceiling and then back into Sulu's dark eyes, "I can be comfortable wizh you. You understand, ewen when you don't know zhe words I say."

"I love how your accent gets thicker when you're not thinking about it." He sat on Chekov's lap, facing him with their foreheads together, "I love that you're that comfortable with me. I love how you bounce like Tigger when you're excited. God, Pavel, I love everything about you."

"Ja teb'a l'ubl'u, Hikarushka." Sulu felt like home, but also strange and new, like his first night on the Enterprise. "Who is Tigger?"

"A friend of Rabbit and Pooh - stories my dad read to me when I was little."

Chekov grinned and then giggled, "Mily zaichik, Hikaru! My bunny-rabbit!"

"It sounds better in Russian." He grinned and gave Chekov a peck on the lips.

"Da, Zaichik."


	6. The Gentle Way

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After combat, Chekov needs to have a run. Sulu is a perfect gentleman.

_  
****  
_

Three weeks had passed since the arboretum and Chekov's efficiency at the helm had improved. He navigated as Sulu flew, making course corrections flawlessly. Sulu made flying a starship even more fun, moving into his course adjustments almost as quick as he'd calculated them, and when it got dull, they played "go fish" on the conn. They were en route to a research station when the Klingons showed up.

"Two Klingon D7s on our starboard, Captain!" Chekov saw them first, a little blip on his screen.

"On screen." The blip on the conn was no longer an abstract symbol, but a real ship, a dangerous ship.

"Their phasers are armed!" Chekov warned.

"Shields up! Red alert!" The bridge was bathed in red, the alert klaxon sounding as the warning light pulsed. "Arm phasers, lock in. Uhura, open a channel."

"Channel is open, Sir."

"This is Captain James T. Kirk of the Federation Starship Enterprise. You are ordered to stand down and-" a blast to the portside nacells shook them nearly out of their seats. "I guess they don't want to negotiate. Fire phasers, 35% - let 'em know we mean business. Lieutenant Uhura, send them the following message: This is your final warning. Leave Federation space or be destroyed."

Sulu positioned the ship just so and Chekov fired, glancing off one arching wing of one of the Klingon ships. Perfect warning shot. The Klingons shot back, of course, and the Enterprise returned fire until both enemy vessels had been destroyed. "Whoo! Fuck your mother!" Chekov exclaimed, except it came out as "Whoo! Yob twoiu mat'!" He grinned ear to ear, _Mama would take away my wideo games for a month if she knew I talked this way!_ He fidgeted until his shift was over, adrenaline still coursing through his veins with no way to release the nervous energy. When their relief arrived, he jumped up and motioned for Sulu to join him in the turbolift. "I am going running, Zaichik. I will see you after."

Chekov kissed him, "Sure thing, Tigger."

The door whooshed open and Chekov took off, not bothering to stop by his quarters to change out of his uniform. The need to run off the adrenaline was too urgent. Not since Nero and the Narada had he wanted to run like this, fast and hard 'till his legs ached and his heart pounded in his throat. He'd reach a point when he was too exhausted to think up equations or how he could have been faster or better and then all that remained was his feet hitting the deckplates. The crewmen were used to it by now. Someone shouted, "Code C!" and they'd get out of the way. It started as a good-natured joke after the fifth time he'd run into someone, "Code Chekov" meant "make way," and now it was as much a part of the Enterprise culture as Scotty's wild stories or Uhura singing in the rec room. He'd been teased at the Academy, teased in school back home in Russia, teased constantly because he was both smart and little, but on the Enterprise there was only the kind of joking around that made him feel like part of the family.

A blonde woman in science blues shouted, "Code C!" as Chekov ran toward the outer rim of the saucer section of the ship and two burly security officers stepped to the side. He smiled, thinking about how the same kind of big shouldered guys used to intimidate him. Now they made way for him.

When the images of the Klingon ships no longer dominated his thoughts and his legs burned, he made his way to Sulu's quarters, out of breath and sweating. He chimed the door and entered at Sulu's permission. The Lieutenant waited at the little table in his room, dressed in a blue tunic that tied on one side and loose black pants. He dropped three electrolyte tablets into a tall glass of water and handed it to Chekov, "Here. Drink this."

Chekov took it and gulped it down in one breath. "You are the best, Zaichik."

"You're welcome to use my shower." The Ensign hesitated, they'd only kissed so far and while he'd seen Sulu without his shirt, watching him practice Judo or fencing in the exercise room, he was reluctant to take off his own. Sulu was beautiful and muscled, perfectly toned, and he was...pale and skinny. "I'll turn around if it makes you uncomfortable."

"Okay." Chekov stepped toward the shower area and stripped out of his uniform, looking over his shoulder to be sure Sulu wasn't watching him undress. He took a small grey stone from his pocket, rubbed it with his thumb, and placed it on the sink before entering the shower. The hum of the sonic waves felt good on his aching legs and stiff back and when he was clean, he pushed the off button and opened the shower door. He shut it again, eyes wide, trapped and naked in Sulu's shower. "Zaichik?"

"Yes?"

"Where is my uniform?"

"In the laundry."

 _Oh, God!_ "Hikaru, why is my uniform in the laundry?"

"Uh...because it was dirty?" Sulu's tone was matter-of-fact, as though leaving him stuck in the shower with nothing to wear was perfectly sensible and reasonable.

"Zaichik - can I haf somezhink to wear?" As much as his fantasies had centered around being pressed flesh-to-flesh against Sulu, when it came to actually being naked in front of someone else, he found himself intimidated by the idea.

Sulu laughed "I don't know, maybe I should make you come out here just as you are."

"Hikaruuu!" he whined, "Do not be so mean to me! Please?"

"Alright." Chekov heard a drawer open and close and then a few seconds of silence. "There's a pair of shorts on the sink. You can come out now, I promise I'm not looking."

He cracked the shower door open and saw the back of Sulu's head. Satisfied that he wasn't watching, he put on the shorts. They were too big and hung low on his hips and there was no shirt, but it was better than nothing at all. "Eh, okay. I am decent."

Sulu turned around and looked him over from head to toe, "You're more than decent. You're gorgeous."

"I am too skinny, not muscled like you. You are perfect." Sulu smiled in a way he'd only imagined before. He'd spent three torturous weeks masturbating to thoughts of Sulu's face, his perfect mouth, that lascivious look. Chekov's body reacted before his brain and there was no way to hide the growing bulge. Blood rushed through him, warm in his cheeks and in his stiffening organ.

"C'mere, Tigger." Chekov shook his head, "It's alright, c'mere." He reluctantly did so and when Sulu kissed him warm and slow, he thought he would melt or die or both. "Lay down on my bed."

Chekov's eyes widened and he shook his head, _No, no, no, no, no, no, no, yes, no!_

"Relax, Pavel, I'm just going to rub some of the tension out of your legs." Chekov squinched up his face, "I could always take you to Doc McCoy."

"No, no, no!" He shook his head emphatically. "Just, please..."

"I'll be gentle, I promise. Now lay face down." Chekov lay on the bed, his face buried in the pillow. It smelled like Sulu, like exotic spices and sweat. He focused on this, trying not to think about how much he wanted to be fucked. He heard Sulu's hands rubbing together and then felt them warm and slick with oil on his calves, his strong hands working the muscles until they loosened. When he moved to Chekov's thighs, he groaned into Sulu's pillow. "Your legs are really strong."

"Mmm," by which he meant "Thank you" and "Fuck me, please," but he felt too good to be coherent.

"Maybe I should teach you some Judo," He moved to Chekov's back, tracing his thumbs in a sweeping motion over tight muscles, "Judo means 'the gentle way,'" Chekov groaned and flushed, glad that Sulu couldn't see his pink face, "It doesn't matter if you're small or not very strong. Master Kano was small like you."

"Who is..." Chekov spoke in lazy syllables, trailing off before he could finish the thought and thoroughly engrossed in the sensation of Sulu's hands on his back.

"Master Kano is the founder of Judo. They say he was no more than 45 kilos, even in his twenties, and he was bullied when he was in school. He studied whatever martial arts he could and eventually developed his own technique." Chekov exhaled with a soft moan as Sulu's warm hands moved over his back. He felt so good, so relaxed, and even though he fought it hard so he could listen to Sulu's voice, the heavy pull of sleep soon enveloped him.


	7. Terms of Endearment

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wherein we meet Mr. & Mrs. Chekov, Mrs. Sulu, and one of the Sulu sisters.

_****_

He watched the breath move slowly in and out of Chekov's body, "Computer, dim lights to 20%" He went through his evening routine, brush teeth, put on gi, kata, shower, pajamas, and tea, but instead of reading, he just watched Chekov sleep. If it were anyone else, he'd jump in, wake him up, and have wild raucous sex until dawn. He'd done that with George once or twice when they were dating at the Academy, and his beautiful brown-eyed George always laughed and kissed his nose after. Now he was gone. He died in the line of duty before his career had even begun. Sulu thought he'd never love anyone as much as he'd loved George, but then there was Pavel A. Chekov, sweet, eager, young, brilliant, fun, beautiful, gentlemanly... and a virgin.

In spite of how much he wanted to fuck him 'til they both passed out from exhaustion, 'til Chekov begged for more, he wouldn't do it. _Not yet. He deserves more._ He sighed and ran his hands through his straight black hair, finally crawling into bed next to his Pavel. _I'll take care of you._ He pulled the covers up and wrapped his arm around Chekov's narrow waist, falling asleep to the sound of his breath.

Sulu awoke five minutes before the alarm as usual. "Hey, Tigger," he whispered. There was a mumble of something with too many consonants and not enough vowels. _Not awake enough for English._ "Tigger, wake up!" Chekov mumbled again, "C'mon, we gotta get ready for work!" _Completely hopeless_ , he smiled sweetly at the sleeping young man in his bed and tucked him in. By the time Chekov woke up, Sulu had breakfast and a clean uniform waiting and was halfway through his kata.

"What are you doing?" Chekov asked.

"It's my kata, how I practice." _Sumi gaeshi...Yoko gate..._

Chekov sat up and blinked once or twice, but did not take his eyes off of Sulu as he moved through the last few positions, "It is beautiful, like dancing."

 _Uki waza...Stand, bow._ Chekov returned the bow, which made Sulu chuckle. "Breakfast is on the table, sleepyhead." Chekov tossed the covers off, then pulled them back over himself again. "What's wrong?"

"Eh...it is the morningtime, and I was watching you doing kata dancing in only your pyjama pants..." His ears went rosy pink.

"It's alright. I promise I won't assault you during breakfast." Sulu towled his face off and took the cover off of both their trays. Federation standard coffee, milk substitute, orange flavored juice drink from concentrate, rehydrated egg-flavored protein powder, and toast. He took Chekov's tray to him as he sat in bed.

"I am beginning to miss Academy food," he smiled and dug in to the egg substitute, "but I nehwer had breakfast in bed in Academy." They talked about food all through breakfast, things their parents would make them when they were sick, comfort foods, food from home.

"Miso soup and green tea," Sulu shouted over the hum of the shower.

"Pelmeni and borscht," Chekov replied as he dressed.

"What's a pelmeni?" Sulu pushed the off button and put on his standard issue black boxer briefs before exiting the shower.

"Eh...Is like ravioli, only much better." Chekov pulled on his boots, "What is a miso?"

"Miso is just a very simple kind of soup. You put different things in it like tofu or onions or seaweed, depending on the season." He kissed Chekov long and slow, "Ready for duty, Ensign Tigger?"

Chekov saluted, "Da! Ready for duty, Lieutenant Zaichik!"

Sulu returned the salute and gave Chekov one more peck on his soft lips, "We must never, ever do that in front of anyone. We're disgustingly cute, y'know that?"

"Da, Zaichik."

"It would harm our badass reputations."

The door whooshed open and Chekov made a face like he was figuring out some complex equation, "I have 'badass' reputation?"

Sulu raised an eyebrow, "Every Vulcan alive is alive because of you - including Commander Spock and the Vulcan Council, you hid the ship from Nero in Titan of all places, and my personal favorite of your badass deeds is how you beamed me and the Captain to the Enterprise _while we were plummeting to our certain deaths_! I haven't even _mentioned_ that you're the best navigator in Starfleet and a hell of a shot with ship's phasers. You, sir, are one badass motherfucker."

"I could haf been faster." Chekov hung his head.

"Hey," Sulu tilted the Ensign's chin up and looked into his big blue eyes, "Only the best of the best get to serve on the Enterprise and you are a bridge officer at seventeen. Do you know what that means?" Chekov shook his head, "It means that no one in the known universe could have done any better than Ensign Pavel Andreievich Chekov of the Starship Fucking Enterprise, that's what."

Chekov smiled a little bit, "You are wery kind to me."

"C'mon, Kelso and Leslie will pitch a fit if we're late."

\---

Chekov couldn't stop thinking about the night before all through their duty shift. Sulu had been nothing but a gentleman, absolutely perfect, the kind of guy you'd take home to Mama and Papa. _Mama and Papa wouldn't understand._ He thought about how best to introduce him, whether Mama would notice that they were more than friends, if Papa would be angry...

"What are you thinking about?" They waited 'til they were in the turbolift to hold hands and broke contact when the door whooshed open.

"I told Mama I would call home today. I want her to meet you, but I do not think she would like me hafing a boyfriend." He pouted a little. The Enterprise had been so full of new things and excitement that he hadn't thought about his little family in Obninsk. _Obninsk..._ Nobody knew about Obninsk, so he always just said Moscow, which was close enough. Chekhov was closer by forty kilometers, but Pavel A. Chekov from Chekhov sounded absurd, even though that was the home of his ancestors. The Chekovs hadn't wandered far until now.

"Then tell her I'm your _best_ friend, because it's true."

Chekov's heart filled with a warmth that could take him through a long, cold Russian winter, "Okay."

It took a minute to connect with Earth, but the transmission came in with very little delay and clear. His mama answered, a woman in her mid to late thirties with long curly hair and big blue eyes, "Pasha! So good to see you! Are you eating enough?"

"Yes, Mama. Please don't call me 'Pasha,' I have a friend owver." Some days, he was glad Sulu didn't speak Russian.

Mrs. Chekov peered into the screen, "I don't see anyone. Does your friend speak Russian?"

"No, Mama." He looked over his shoulder and motioned for Sulu, "Hikaru, come say hello."

Sulu smiled and waved into the screen, "Hello, Mrs. Chekov!"

"He seems nice, Pasha. Is everyone treating you well? I worry about you all the time, out there in space all alone."

"I am not alone! Hikaru is my best friend, and the Captain is wvery nice. Lieutenant Uhura is teaching me Swahili! Ewveryone is wvery good to me here, like a family." He grinned, not only to show his Mama that he was okay, but because he was truly happy aboard the Enterprise.

"Your speech is improving, have you been practicing?"

"Yes, Lieutenant Uhura has been helping me."

"Oh," Mrs. Chekov smiled, "I saw her at your graduation. She's pretty."

The Ensign rolled his eyes, "Mama..."

"Your father wants to talk. Love you, Pasha!" Mrs. Chekov blew a kiss to the screen. _Of all the embarrassing things..._

"How's my son the Enterprise Bridge Officer?" Mr. Chekov was a handsome man in his early forties with straight brown hair and the same nose and cheekbones as his son.

"Wvery well, Papa. Yesterday, I destroyed two Klingon D7s that were in Federation space!" He sat up taller, knowing his Papa would be proud.

"Two D7s?" Mr. Chekov raised his eyebrows in the same way his son did when he was surprised, "It seems all those hours you spent playing video games have paid off. I was going to get you 'Klingon Attack 9' for your birthday, but it seems you're living the real thing. Don't worry, your mother and I sent something even better. I don't know when you'll get it, but I think you'll like it."

"I haf to go, Papa. We are only allowed short transmissions. Tell Mama I luff her."

"Will do. Be good, Pavel, or don't get caught if you're not!" Mr. Chekov winked and the younger Chekov laughed just before the transmission ended.

"Pasha?" Sulu asked.

Chekov scowled, "Only Mama and Babushka call me 'Pasha.'"

"You're cute when you try to scowl." Sulu kissed his nose, "Wanna meet my family?"

"Eh..."

"C'mon, they're nice. They'll like you." Sulu punched in the code that connected him with his mother's apartment.

A girl about fifteen years old with shiny black pigtails answered, "Hi, Big Brother. Mommy! Hikaru's calling! How's space?"

"Big. How's high school?"

"Big, but not as big as space. Mrs. Isaksen talks about you all the time, says you were her best student. It's really annoying, more annoying than taking Chemistry from Mr. Smith after Kiko. MOM!!! It's Hikaru!!" She leaned over as though she could look around her brother, "Is that your boyfriend?"

"Hana! You have no manners at all. Where's Mom?"

A woman in her mid forties came into view, "Hey, sweetheart. I had to take the lasagna out. Are you taking care of yourself out there?"

"Yeah, Mom. Hey, there's someone I'd like you to meet." He took Chekov's hand and pulled him into his lap, in spite of his protests. "This is Pavel."

"Isn't he a little young for you?" Mrs. Sulu warned.

"He'll be eighteen in two months and I'm being very careful." Chekov opened his eyes wide, completely flabbergasted at how open he was with his parents. "Pavel, this is my mom."

Chekov hesitated, but didn't want to seem rude, "Hello, Mrs. Sulu, it's a pleasure to meet you." The "h's" came out a little harder than he meant to and the "i's" sounded too much like "ee," but it was good enough. His accent wouldn't recover for a week after talking to his parents.

She grinned, that same smile that always made Chekov melt, "You can call me Mitzi."

"It's short for Mitsuko," Sulu explained.

She continued, "I was worried about you after George died. I know he meant a lot to you." Mrs. Sulu smiled, "But now I see that you're alright. It's a pleasure to meet you Pavel."

"The pleasure is mine, Mrs. Sulu." Chekov bowed his head slightly and extracted himself from Sulu's lap.

"So polite, Hikaru. I like this one." Both Sulus chuckled, "Let me know when you're ready to pick out wedding china."

"Mom!" Sulu blushed, "We've only been dating a few weeks and you're planning a wedding already?"

Mrs. Sulu sat up and looked at her son with the narrowed eyes of an all-knowing mother, "A mother knows these things. You two were meant to be together."

"I gotta go, Mom. I'll send you a text transmission soon."

"Love you, too, sweetheart. Bye, Pavel!" She grinned and waved.

"Good-bye, Mrs. Sulu." Chekov flushed red when the Lieutenant kissed his cheek.

"Bye, Hikachu!" Hana waved as her pigtails swished from side to side, "Bye, Hikachu's boyfriend!"

"Eh...Good-bye Miss Hana." The transmission ended and they both sighed. "Ai!"

"Yeah," Sulu was still grinning, "My sister's a trip, but she's alright. Kiko's much more serious... I told you they'd like you."

"I cannot beliewv you kissed me in front of your mother!" He wiped the place where Sulu's lips had been as if he could erase some of the embarrassment, "And who is George?"

The joy left Sulu's face. Chekov had never seen him this sad, "A guy I dated in the Academy. He was assigned to a different ship."

A few moments passed before Chekov realized what that meant, "I'm...sorry."

"Don't be." Sulu managed a half-smile, "I'm glad I got to know him while he was here. Now you're here and I'm enjoying what we have. That's just how life is, ephemeral, it doesn't last, so it's important to enjoy what's here now. I loved George very much, but that doesn't mean I love you less. You're my Pavel, my only Tigger."

"You are my only Zaichik Hikaru."


	8. Thrown

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sulu's control falters a bit after he teaches Chekov some Judo

"Hikaru," They had dinner in the officer's mess, some sort of pressed meat thing with gravy and rice, "I would like to watch you kata dancing tonight."

Sulu chuckled, "It's just 'kata,' it means 'form.' And you are welcome to come over. In fact, why don't we go to the dojo and I'll show you some basics. Judo kata is better with two people anyway."

"Oh, I... I don't know, I am not wery athletic like you," He slurped at his milk substitute, "I can only run. Running is easy."

"C'mon," Sulu grinned, "If I can do it, you can. Remember what I told you about Master Kano?"

"A little," he picked up both their empty trays and took them to be washed, "I fell asleep."

"He wasn't any bigger than you are now. C'mon, I'll meet you in the exercise room in five minutes. It'll be fun!" Sulu grinned and took off before Chekov could voice his objection. Sulu jogged to the exercise room, changed into his black gi, and waited in the exercise room for Chekov, smiling when he'd shown up in his running clothes.

Chekov's eyes got big, "You look wery handsome, Hikarushka."

"Thank you, but it's more functional than anything. Here." Sulu tossed a bundle of white clothes to Chekov, who gave him a quizzical look. "take off your socks and shoes and put this on. It's my old practice gi, but it should fit you fine."

A call came from the dressing room, "Zaichik?"

Sulu peeked in, "Need help?"

"Da."

"Take off your t-shirt and shorts. They'll bunch up under the gi." Chekov reluctantly did so, flushing red and sinking into himself a little as he sat in only his black boxer briefs. Sulu brushed his fingers lightly over Chekov's pale arm and shuddered. "Oh, Pavel..." Chekov was shaking and his soft lips quivered, but Sulu stilled them with a kiss. "Um..." Sulu took a step back and looked away for a moment, "Put the pants on. They can go on either way."

Chekov pulled on the gi pants and held them up with one hand, "How do I..."

"You tighten them like this:" Sulu took the drawstrings and pulled them until the pants were the proper size and tied them. "Now the uwagi - the jacket." Chekov pulled it on and Sulu helped him tie the belt around it. "The obi, the belt, goes around like this," _I want you so much_ , "This part over, this part under, got it?"

"Da, I think so." Chekov nodded, his curls bouncing.

On the mat, Sulu straightened Chekov's gi, brushing some of the wrinkles out of it, "Judo is not about size or strength. Even somebody your size could take down Mr. Spock or an angry Klingon. With a few exceptions, the nerves and joints of most humanoids are more or less in the same configuration, so the Judo that was practiced four hundred years ago still works today." Chekov listened intently as Sulu went through his spiel, "It's a throwing art, so even a big guy like Cupcake Wilson is shorter than you when he's on the ground." Chekov laughed to think of Sulu throwing the big security officer to the mat. "Before we start, stand up straight like this," Sulu stood with his hands at his sides, "and bow." Chekov copied him. "The student bows to the teacher and the teacher bows to the student. Then we do a kneeling bow." He copied Sulu precisely, "In my dojo back home we'd also bow to a picture of Master Kano, to recognize where our art came from."

"Maybe..." Chekov concentrated for a moment, "Maybe we bow toward Earth?"

Sulu smiled, "I like it. Which way?"

Chekov closed his eyes and pointed, "This way, I think."

"Alright, that way." They both bowed toward Earth. "The best way I know to learn something is by doing it, so come at me like you're going to attack." Chekov shook his head and Sulu laughed, "I'm not going to hurt you."

"What if I accidentally hurt you?" Chekov held his lips pursed around the letters. Most days, it was adorable, but today it was downright distracting.

Sulu, thankful for the loose gi pants, laughed, "You won't hurt me, Tigger. Try." Chekov pulled his arm back for a punch and stepped in, but Sulu easily knocked him off balance onto his back. He ran four fingers over Chekov's smooth cheek, _I will never hurt you._ "Are you hurt?"

"No."

"Good." He helped Chekov up to his feet, savoring the cool touch of his pale hands. "I practice with the Captain sometimes, so you don't have to hold back. He doesn't pull his punches and he still ends up on the mat," _Like I want you - on your back with me on top of you._ "Try again, and this time pretend I'm someone you really hate."

Chekov grinned and shook his head, "I cannot do that. You are my lyubimi Hikarushka."

"Which is why it's perfectly safe. Close your eyes and think of someone who makes you angry." He closed his eyes and Sulu waited as his expression changed, "Now, let it out on me." Chekov yelled, his fist raised in anger, but Sulu had him on his back again with little effort. "Wow. I've never seen you make that face before." _I wonder what face you make when you come..._ "What made you so angry?"

"I was always ahead in school, always small," He lay on the mat 'til Sulu offered his hand, "so other boys picked on me, called me names, bad names. One boy was bigger than the others and he hurt me wery badly. Sometimes when I am running, I think of him behind me so I can keep running."

 _You don't have to be afraid anymore._ "Fear can be useful, but don't let it control you. Instead, let it wash through you and drift away again, like a boat going down a river. In Judo, holding on to fear and anger make you sloppy. You forget to be aware of your surroundings and get caught up in all the thoughts and feelings of things that might happen, things that have happened, and fantasies of the mind."

"I think I understand," He nodded his head, "Like when I am thinking whether I am good at being an Ensign on the bridge, I forget sometimes to compensate for grawity of small things like comets and moons and then I am not as efficient... Sometimes I can think only of the Hikaru singularity and that is not so bad, but I still forget little things when I do."

 _He doesn't even realize how brilliant and beautiful he is._ "The what?"

"I figured out why I want to run to you, why I want to kiss you all the time, be close to you, why I am always feeling strange wizh you."

 _God, I want your mouth, Pavel. I want to watch that perfect mouth sucking me off and then gasping for air as you come. I want to hear you speaking Russian in my ear. You could read the fucking duty roster to me, for all I care, except that you're brilliant and it would sound like the secrets of the fucking universe._ "Yeah? Why is that, exactly?"

"You are a singularity."

Sulu laughed. "Stand up, I'll show you Ju No Kata. I'll be the Tori, the one throwing, and you be the Uke, the one being thrown. I'll show you once how to advance toward me, and then you do it, okay?" He advanced as though sliding forward, in precise steps, with one arm raised. "Now you." Chekov advanced, uncertain and awkward. Sulu took his wrist and stepped behind him, leaning back slightly. He'd done this more times than he could count, but this was different. He felt his control slipping away, "Um..." Sulu's cheeks flushed red as he felt Chekov's body against his, "Now I'm going to twist you around a little."

"Will it hurt?" Chekov's ears had gone pink.

 _I will never hurt you_. "No. Ju No Kata means 'Gentle Forms.' I'll lead you through it very slowly and you just relax let me show you." _I didn't mean that how it sounded. No, I did mean that how it sounded, but...fuck._ "Like this." Chekov yielded to Sulu's grasp, allowing himself to be turned around.

"I told you it is like dancing."

Sulu's laugh was a little more nervous than he'd meant it to be, "You're not wrong." He pulled Chekov back against him, imagining that they were naked and he was inside. "Mmm." Chekov exhaled a shuddering breath and a word or two of Russian. Sulu completed the form, ending with Chekov leaning backwards, his eyes wide open. Sulu let him up and straightened his gi, "That's tsukidashi. We'll practice that until you've got it and then we'll move on to the next one."

Chekov pouted, "When do I get to throw?"

"Don't pout. You have to learn how to be thrown before you learn how to throw." He straightened Chekov's gi, barely resisting the urge to rip it off and have him on the mat before they could blink twice.

"I am not pouting," he insisted, "I..." His cheeks flushed redder and he fidgeted and bounced, "I kind of like how you throw me."

"Oh?" Sulu grinned, thinking of gentle arts that were not in the least martial. Chekov nodded. "I guess that's enough for today. We bow and then we're done." They bowed to each other and then toward Earth.

Sulu grabbed Chekov's running shorts and stuffed them into his bag. "Hikaru! I am still wearing your-"

"It's yours." _What am I doing?_ "Besides, it looks nice on you. You wanna come back to my quarters for tea?" _It's not tea I want..._ "It's kind of a private ritual of mine. I used to go to this one sushi place near my old dojo after practice and have a California roll and green tea before I went home."

"I would luff to share this wizh you." He followed behind like a puppy and once inside, Sulu tossed the bag on his bed, grabbed Chekov's jacket, and pulled him in for a hard kiss.

"I want you." He kissed Chekov's soft lips again and placed his hand on the Ensign's firm buttocks, pulling him even closer.

Chekov's eyes fluttered and closed, "Mmmph." He squirmed and pressed his hips against Sulu's, softly thrusting forward in a wanton rhythm.

"I can't disrespect my gi this way," he whispered, "I have to fold it up." Chekov nodded and Sulu swallowed hard before backing away. Slowly, he removed each part of the gi, arranging it on the bed to be properly folded. The Ensign copied him exactly, each stealing glances at the other's body. The neat rolls were set aside and as quick as punching the Enterprise into warp, he had Chekov beneath them. "I want you, Pavel." The Ensign's eyes were wide open, pupils dilated and breath quickened. Sulu backed away, "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to scare you."

White legs and arms wrapped around him, pulling him down like some ancient sea monster into a soft kiss. "I am not scared of you, Hikashka. Wizh you, I feel safe."

Sulu latched onto Chekov's mouth once more and then sucked on his neck. He licked the soft spot just above the collarbone and then scraped his teeth over Chekov's shoulder and bicep, all the while rutting against the young Russian. He then kissed the inside of his elbow, soft and sensitive skin where the right touch could send a rush of hormones to the brain and the wrong touch could cause searing pain. _Only gentle kisses for my Pavel. I would never hurt you._ "I would never hurt you." Chekov gasped for air as a stream of incomprehensible Russian syllables came in whispers and soft grunts, his face and chest flushed red against his otherwise milky skin.

He continued speaking in Russian, climaxing in a begging whine and a shudder, continuing lazily as his body relaxed. After a few panting breaths, he managed English, "I'm sorry, I...eh, ejaculated too quickly. I haf nehwer..."

"Shh, it's okay." _I never even took off his underwear and he came so hard I thought he'd go nova. I hardly touched him._ Sulu withdrew and dug around in his bag for Chekov's running shorts. "Here," He sighed as he handed the grey cotton shorts to him, "I'm sorry if I'm going too fast. I just..."

"No, no, no, no, no!" He shook his head fast as if to negate everything in the universe. "Not too fast. Too slow! I want to..." He slipped into Russian again, fast and exotic words whose meanings he could only derive from the pain of wanting on Chekov's face.

"I want to go slow with you, Pavel. I want it to be more than sex and lust because I love you." He sat next to Chekov and ran his fingers through those beautiful sandy curls, "Nobody's ever knocked me off center like you. You've thrown me, Uke."


	9. Steady as She Goes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Scotty gets Chekov drunk

"Hand me that parametric scanner, lad." Scottie had his head inside the bulkhead and reached his hand out for the tool. Chekov put it in the Chief Engineer's open palm and peered inside, "Thankye."

"What are you doing?"

"Aligning the phase coils," came an echoed brogue.

Chekov checked the console, "But I ran a level one diagnostic not wery long ago. They were processing at thirty-five field densities. It is well above specification."

"Aye, lad, that it is." He continued working, "But I think I can get 'er up to forty."

"You will have to increase power to the phase transition coils to compensate for phase wariance. A redundancy in zhe Heisenberg compensator can be rerouted for greater efficiency." He took off the panel next to Scotty's and climbed inside. "Right here. Reroute this to here."

"But ye'll diminish the safety factor by fifteen percent!" Scotty objected, examining the readings of the scanner.

"Not if we run a wa- w.. wvalwve connector from zhe primary energizing coil." Chekov indicated one of many cords, and handed a clear tube to the ship's Engineer.

"Well, it's worth a try..." They spent another thirty minutes disconnecting and reconnecting wires and cords, scanning and adjusting settings until everything was just so. "Alright, let's give 'er a go." Chekov opened the supply closet to get a test cylinder, but Scotty shook his head to stop him. "No, laddie, I've got something far better!" Scottie grinned, punched in coordinates, and energized. A glass bottle of amber liquid materialized on the pad, along with two crystal tumblers. "Aaaah, Speyburn single malt scotch, aged eighteen years - a wee bit older than you. It looks to be intact, but we'd better test it to make sure." He took the bottle, poured a little into each glass, and handed one to Chekov, who sniffed it and swirled it around in the glass. "Here's to forty field densities!" They raised their glasses and Scottie clinked his glass to Chekov's. "Cheers!"

"Na zdorovyeh," replied Chekov. Scottie took a sip, but Chekov knocked back the whole glass in one swig, breathing in sharply and slowly exhaling. "A shame we do not have any black bread..."

"Ye'll never last if ya drink it like that, lad." He poured another half-tumbler full for Chekov. "Scotch is for sippin'."

"Wodka is better," he stared into the glass and raised both eyebrows.

"Your turn, lad."

"Eh... to zhe Enterprise!" Chekov raised his glass.

"The Enterprise!"

"Na zdorovyeh!" They clinked and drank a sip. "Now you."

"To the Captain!"

"Na zdorovyeh!" They drank another sip. By the end of the second glass, they'd toasted each member of the bridge crew, every female officer, Zefram Cochrane, and Emory Erickson. "To zhe... To... Yuri Gagarin!"

"Who?"

"Yuri Gagarin, first man in space..." Scottie still looked confused, "From Smolensk!"

Scottie raised his glass, "Alright, to Yuri Gagarin. Nebraska!"

"Na zdorovyeh!"

"Aye, what you said." They drank another sip. "To...Robert the Bruce!"

"Na z-...whut?"

"Robert the Bruce, lad! Don't ye know yer hist'ry?" Scotty poured another half-tumbler for each of them. "You know, successor of William Wallace..."

Chekov took another sip, "No, nozhink. I do not know zhis person."

"Good, God, lad! What are they teachin' ye? Robert the Bruce, crowned King of Scots, united all of Scotland against the English and dinnae once give ground!" He took a proud sip and poured more.

By the end of the third glass, Chekov was naming the important inventions of his homeland, "Zhish drink, you call 'scotch', was inwented by leetle ol' lady from Leningrad."

"Are ya daft? It's called 'scotch' because it's from Scotland. Next thing, you'll be tellin' me golf was invented in Moscow!"

"Oh, no," Chekov shook his head as though he had no muscles at all in his neck. "Golf was inwented by two brozhers from Rostowskaya. Eweryone knows zat."

Scotty gave him a doubtful raise of the eyebrow, "An' perhaps 'Macbeth' was a story about the King of Siberia."

"Oh, no," He shook his head again and took another sip of scotch, "But Hamlet is better in ze original Russian..."

When they'd finished glass number four and were halfway through glass number five, they were singing songs better sung drunk and it was difficult to tell the difference between Scotty's thick brogue and Chekov's slurred Russian. That's when Spock came in and saw the two men singing and the mostly empty bottle on the transporter console. He raised an eyebrow at the Chief Engineer, who cleared his throat and elbowed the singing Ensign. "I trust that the enhancements to ship's transporters are complete, Mr. Scott?"

"Aye, they are. Yer welcome to join us in a drink if ye like."

Both Vulcan eyebrows went up and then back down again, "No, thank you, Mr. Scott. My species has been spared the dubious benefits of alcohol. Perhaps..."

"Oh, please!" Chekov opened his eyes as wide as his drunkenness would allow and stuck out his bottom lip.

The eyebrow went up again, "Perhaps we should see Mr. Chekov to his quarters and you can continue your celebration in the rec room once you have returned the captain's decanter."

"Spoil sport." Scotty and Chekov downed what remained in their glasses and placed them on the transporter pad with a loud clank. Scotty put the bottle next to the empty glasses and energized, returning them to their rightful place.

"Kirk to Spock, did you find it?" The Captain's voice was tinny through the intercom.

"Yes, Captain. I believe you will find the item returned to its proper place." Spock turned on his heel and walked out of the transporter room, looking back once to make sure the Ensign followed. Chekov followed behind, drunk and pouting all the way to his quarters. The door opened at the Commander's override and the young Russian gave him one last look before going in. "Good evening, Ensign. Your post resumes at 0800 tomorrow."

"Yessur." He stumbled into his quarters and collapsed onto his bed, falling asleep in full uniform.

\---

Sulu chimed the door, but there was no answer. "Pavel, are you alright?" He pushed the button again, "Pavel?" Again, there was no answer. He finally punched in the code Chekov had given him and entered.

Chekov woke up, blinked his big blue eyes and grinned, "Lyubimi!"

"Are you..." Chekov stood up like a newborn colt, all wobbly legs, and gave Sulu a sloppy kiss. "Why are you drunk?"

"Meestur Scott and I feex zhe transzhporter." He grinned, "Zhen we celebrate! Now you are here, zho celebration continue!" Chekov pulled Sulu into the bed and closed his eyes, falling asleep again in just a few breaths. Sulu extracted himself and began undressing Chekov as he slept, leaving him in his black shirt and underpants to sleep and stuffing his dirty clothes into the laundry chute.

He tucked Chekov into his bed and kissed his cheek, "Goodnight, Pavel."

\---

The alarm chirped, quietly at first and then progressively louder until Chekov sat up and spoke, "Ungh, Ensign Pavel Andreiovich Chekov 656-5827B." His head pounded and he felt ill, too tired to curse as he carefully carried himself to the tiny bathroom. He stood in the sonic shower for a long time, trying to put together what had happened after he started drinking with Scottie in the Transporter room. Deciding that he'd forego his usual morning run, he turned off the shower and put on a clean uniform. "Computer, time?"

"The current ship's time is 0723 hours."

"Thank you." He didn't have to say it, but it was habit. The voice reminded him somewhat of Nurse Chapel, who was always kind to him and it just seemed right to tell her thank you. On his little table was a tray and a note, written in Sulu's precise handwriting on a PADD.

Ensign Tigger:

I'm sorry I couldn't be there when you woke up, but I'm working night shift and day shift to cover for Kelso, who is down with Ankaran flu. Doc says he should be back on his feet in a couple of days. There's electrolyte solution and something for the headache you've probably got right now, so take that first thing. Breakfast this morning was, let's say, "unsuitable for your condition," so I asked the ship's chef if he could spare a little bread and soup. It's neither miso soup or borscht, but will be easier on your stomach than cheese omelettes - trust me. See you at 0800,

Love,  
Lt. Zaichik

P.S. I hope I spelled that correctly!

Chekov smiled, glad to know that his Zaichik was thinking of him and amused that he'd assumed it was his first hangover. He downed the electrolyte solution and two little white pills, had a light breakfast of minestrone and toast and walked to his post.

Gary Mitchell swung his chair around to face his relief, "It's about time you got here!"

"C'mon, Mitch," The Captain replied, sitting in his chair with his legs splayed open as he usually did, "don't give the kid too much of a hard time. He's having his first hangover. Besides, I'd bet most of a bottle of good scotch whiskey he's ten times as good a navigator hungover as any sober man in the fleet, including you."

Mitchell scoffed, "Whatever you say, Captain."

"You're dismissed, Lieutenant." Mitchell acknowledged and left the bridge, shaking his head. Kirk stood, sauntered over to the helm, and clapped Chekov on the shoulder, "When do we arrive at Memory Alpha?"

Chekov looked at his console, annoyed at how Lieutenant Mitchell had rearranged things, it was inefficient. He took a few seconds to restore his own settings and answered the Captain, "At our current speed, estimated time of arriwal is three days, four point two hours, Sir." He tried not to notice that the Captain smelled like sex. Kirk always smelled like sex and hormones and as appealing as that was, it only made him want to be close to Sulu. A slight blush warmed his cheeks and one corner of Sulu's mouth turned upward.

"Steady as she goes."

"Aye, Sir." Sulu and Chekov acknowledged simultaneously.

Kirk patted Chekov on the shoulder and sighed, staring into the viewscreen as the stars streaked by. The duty shift was deceptively busy for Chekov as he made constant minute course corrections and watched for friend and foe. His relief arrived ten minutes after Sulu's and as quickly as he could, Chekov met with the Lieutenant in the hallway outside the lift on deck four.

Sulu gave a sleepy smile, "How're you feeling?"

"Wery good, thank you." His headache still lingered and his stomach didn't quite feel right, but he was conscious and vertical.

Sulu laughed and Chekov barely resisted kissing him right there in the hallway. He loved that laugh. "C'mon, let's have some tea at my place. That'll fix us right up."

Once in Sulu's quarters, they kissed and Sulu ran his fingers through Chekov's sandy curls. "I'm exhausted." Chekov nodded in agreement, but Sulu did not let go, "and I'm a little jealous. First you spend all day with Scotty and then you start looking at the Captain like you want him to fuck you senseless."

His head hurt too much to shake it like he usually did, "No, Lyubimi, only you. The Captain, he... he has an odor of sex and it makes me think of you only. I want to haf you. I want you to haf me all the way, like boys do." He was frustrated at the words he didn't know and a blush rose in his cheeks again and he felt himself grow ever so slightly harder at the thought of sex with Sulu.

Sulu gave him a tender kiss, "We'll get there soon enough. Steady as she goes, Ensign."


	10. Fortune Shared

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Plot stolen from TOS: The Lights of Zetar, but events occur slightly differently.  
> Warning: "offscreen" death

They arrived at Memory Alpha to deliver some computer upgrades and to make an information exchange. This mission was of utmost importance to both Starfleet and the Vulcan colony, so Jim Kirk made no delay in proceeding with his orders. "Uhura, open a channel."

"Yes, Captain." There was some kind of delay in communicating with the surface and that did not bode well, "Memory Alpha, this is the Starship Enterprise...This is the Federation Starship Enterprise, do you read? Enterprise to Memory Alpha..." Uhura looked up from her console, "Captain, the channel is clear, but there's no answer."

"Spock, Bones, come with me. We're going down to the surface." He clapped the CMO on the shoulder and headed for the turbolift, "Mr. Sulu, you have the conn."

"Aye, Sir," Sulu answered, transferring his part of helm operation to Chekov and taking a seat in the Captain's chair. Chekov turned around to look at Sulu sitting in the Captain's chair, back straight and shoulders squared. He was both sad that the distance between them had increased by approximately point four meters, but he also liked to see Sulu in command.

Maintaining orbit was easy, boring even, and without Sulu to play "go fish" with him, his mind wandered to physics equations and the evening after their first Judo practice. Chekov shifted in his seat and stared at the planet that filled the viewscreen. _Later, Pavwel. Work now, think of sex later._

Chekov jumped a little when the Captain's voice came over the comm, "Kirk to Enterprise."

"Enterprise, here," Sulu replied, using his command voice. Chekov wondered how that would sound in bed, Sulu ordering him to...

"They're all dead. Prepare a team to take care of the bodies. Three to beam up, Kirk out." Sulu had the team ready and waiting to beam to the surface before the Captain returned to the bridge. Chekov breathed a sigh of relief as Sulu resumed his place at the helm. "There's gotta be a reason for it. The information at Memory Alpha is available to everyone, there's no reason to kill for it. Kirk to Engineering."

"Mr. Scott here."

"See if you can restore the central core on the surface-" Kirk had a plan. Chekov admired his Captain's confidence, hoping someday to be as brave as he.

"Sensors are picking up some kind of disturbance," Spock interrupted.

"Put it on screen," Kirk ordered, and with the push of a few buttons, Uhura centered the viewscreen on what appeared to be a multicolored nebula, sparkling with light. "What is it, Mr. Spock?"

"I don't know." The Vulcan's voice was even and calm as usual, but Chekov was worried. Spock knew everything. He was one of only a few people on the Enterprise he could talk to about physics and the only one who could beat him at chess. Chekov had never played with the Captain.

"It's moving at warp 2, straight for us, Captain!" Sulu's eyes were wide.

"No natural phenomenon can move at faster than light speed," Spock offered.

"I know that, which means either this is something unnatural or we're going to have to-" The light engulfed them and Chekov found himself unable to see or speak. He could not hear the Captain, but he could hear his own breath moving in and out of his lungs. He counted them to deflect the panic that welled up in his throat and when he reached twelve, his vision returned. "Damage report!" The Captain stumbled back into his chair, recovering from the attack.

"No damage, Captain," Spock replied.

Sulu turned his head toward Chekov, keeping one eye on the viewscreen where the thing, whatever it was, still lingered. "Are you alright, Pavel?" Chekov nodded.

"What in the hell was that? Is everyone alright? Uhura?" Kirk was wide-eyed and sweating.

"I'm fine now, Sir, but for a moment I couldn't hear anything." Uhura stated.

"I tried to lay in a course, Captain," Chekov offered, "but I could not. I was blinded. I'm so sorry."

Kirk dismissed his apology, "It's okay. Mr. Sulu?"

"I couldn't move. I was completely paralyzed, but I'm alright now." Chekov wanted to hold Sulu in his arms and kiss him, to take care of his Hikarushka, but it would have to wait. Sulu watched the viewscreen and checked his console, "Captain, it's approaching the ship - and fast! I've never seen anything like it!"

"Evasive maneuvers, lock phasers. I want a glancing shot off the edge of that thing." Chekov and Sulu worked as one fluid unit, positioning the ship and firing.

"Scotty to bridge, cease fire! Cease fire!" The Chief Engineer's voice was panicked, on the edge of tears, "Get down here quick, and bring the Doctor! It's Mira!"

"Mr. Sulu, keep that thing away from my ship. Mr. Spock, Dr. McCoy, you're with me." Chekov didn't have time to be afraid. The thing, whatever it was, matched their every movement and he had to help Sulu fly the Enterprise away from it. They did so skillfully, but still it followed, even at warp. There was no time for thinking, only for flying and adjusting course so they didn't crash the ship into any number of objects floating there in the black. The Captain was gone for a long time and it should have made him nervous except that Sulu was there. Everything would be okay as long as Sulu was there next to him. "Kirk to bridge."

"Sulu here."

"Maintain position. Let it catch up to us and whatever you do, don't shoot!"

"But Captain!" Sulu protested.

"I don't have time to argue, just do it." The comm clicked off and they followed the Captain's orders, Chekov's heart pounding up in his throat. The lights approached and disappeared somewhere into the ship. Then there was silence. When Kirk returned, he wore a mask of confidence over anger and grief. "Plot a course back to Memory Alpha, warp four."

"Aye, Captain." Chekov plotted the course and laid it in, "Estimated time of arriwal, two point six hours." They ended their duty shift in orbit of the planetoid as ship's engineers completed the repairs to Memory Alpha's computer. They'd be here several days as repairs were made and Starfleet sent a fresh crew to man the station, plenty of time for Mira Romaine's funeral.

In the turbolift, all Chekov could think about was running out the adrenaline from their brush with death. "Are you alright, Tigger?" Sulu petted Chekov's back.

He nodded, but he was not okay. "I am going running."

"Sure, you go." The corners of his mouth just barely turned upward, "I'll wait for you in my quarters."

"Okay, luff you." He gave Sulu a peck on the lips and then ran when the door opened. He looked back just once to see Sulu walking slowly toward his quarters, feet dragging and head hanging. It bothered him to see Sulu so sad, but he had to run, had to get the adrenaline out. _Must run. Post relativwist warp theory dictates that the curvature of...why was Hikaru so sad? Did I make him sad? ...the curwature of a ship's trajectory at warp speed... I hope I did not make him sad. Maybe he is worried..._

Someone shouted, "Code C!" and jumped out of his way.

 _But clearly I am fine. Trajectory at warp speed bends... I am fine. It is obvwious I am fine. Trajectory bends toward..._ _Maybe he is not fine. Of course he is not fine, he was sad and I must know why. Perhaps he knew the Lieutenant..._ Chekov stopped right in the middle of the hall, turned on his heel, and ran as fast as he could to Sulu's quarters. "Hikaru, I-"

Sulu threw his arms around the skinny young Ensign, "God, I was so scared!"

"Scared why? Why were you sad?" Chekov nuzzled into Sulu's neck.

"I've always known this was a dangerous job, flying around in space, searching for the unknown, but when I saw you there, blinded, and I couldn't move to help you, I-" He sighed and ran his fingers through Chekov's curls, "I just wanted to hold you, to take care of you. It's not that you need me to take care of you, Pavel, you're strong and brilliant and I don't know what else, but I need to take care of you."

"I was worried for you," his lips pursed around the words, "so I came to take care of you. I could not evwen think about warp trajectory equations, which are easy."

Sulu laughed, "I love you." They kissed softly. "I have something to give you." He took off a necklace he wore beneath his uniform, a simple gold chain with a small, squarish pendant.

Chekov examined it closely, "It looks like a little tree and house."

"It's 'fu' for good luck. My grandma gave it to me at graduation. She's a little superstitious."

"I understand. Babushka gave me a lapti obereg before I left for Academy. It is an ugly thing and wery old-fashioned, but I do not throw it out, just in case." Chekov reached into his pocket and pulled out something that he rubbed a little with his thumb before giving it to Sulu. "It is from Russia."

Sulu opened his hand to look at the stone, "Pavel, I can't take this."

"Yes, you can, for good luck. I found it before I took the Starfleet entry exam, so I carry it in my pocket evwer since." He closed Sulu's fingers around the stone and pushed it away from himself. "For you."

"But, it's a piece of your home."

Chekov shook his head, "For you." He furrowed his brow and pursed his lips, trying to figure out the right words, "I luff Russia, is home. But also, I luff you. You are home. Zhe Enterprise is home now because you are here. We will take care of each other, share our luck, okay?"

"It's agreed, then." He put the stone in his pocket then fastened his necklace around Chekov's neck. "We'll take care of each other, our fortunes shared."

"Agreed."


	11. Today, You are the Flower

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Their brush with death leaves Chekov full of nervous energy. Sulu helps.

Chekov fidgeted and bounced on the balls of his feet, his brow furrowed and lips stiff as he rubbed the short hair on the back of his head. "What's wrong?" Sulu put one hand on Chekov's arm.

"Whenehwer we haf been in a combat, I haf nervwous energy. I need to run until it goes away, but today I did not finish my run." He switched from bouncing to pacing, "I came to be wizh you, but I need to run." He exhaled through his nose, frustrated, "I do not wish to leaf your side, but l must do something!"

Sulu smiled a mischevous smile, "Well, I guess there's only one thing for it."

"You will run with me?" Chekov's eyes were wide and hopeful.

"I'd never keep up." Sulu moved in close, kissing the Ensign's soft boyish lips.

Chekov relaxed into the kiss, opening his mouth and allowing Sulu's tongue to touch his own. "Oh, but what about going slow?"

"We could have died today. Lieutenant Romaine did die. I don't want to..." He huffed a small laugh, "This sounds really cheesy, but I, uh, I think my mom was right. I think we were meant for each other, like destiny or something. It's dumb, I know, but..."

"It is not dumb, but can you please not talk about your mother when we are going to have sex?" Chekov made his very serious business face, which was not at all convincing.

Sulu could not help but laugh, "You are subtle like photon torpedoes."

"With the exception of when we are engaged in combat, I have not stopped thinking about sex since we left Earth and I have not stopped thinking about sex with you for thirty-two days and approximately ten hours, forty-sewen minutes." He took off his gold uniform shirt and took hold of the bottom of Sulu's shirt. "I have waited a wery long time."

"Geez, Pavel," He raised his arms and let Chekov strip off his gold uniform shirt and toss it aside, "I've wanted you ever since we met on the bridge. I wanted to punch Pike in the face for mispronouncing your name. I wanted to take you right there at the helm, but you were so damn young and I was still in love with George and I felt so guilty about it. Oh, thank God for McKenna's lungworms."

"Please do not talk of lungworms, either."

Sulu chuckled and ran his fingers over Chekov's black undershirt, muscles tensing as he touched. He was lean, to be sure, but there was a strength there, just beneath the surface. In a few years, his shoulders would fill out, his chest would become broader, and sweet Pavel Chekov would be getting as much attention as the Captain - as if practically every woman and some of the guys on the Enterprise didn't already grin and twitter as the young Ensign ran through the corridors. They thought of him as "cute," but to Sulu he was more than that. He untucked Chekov's shirt and ran his hands across the Ensign's belly and around to his back, pulling him in for a long, slow kiss. "What shall I talk about?"

"I do not know the protocol for making luff to a man. Theoretically, it is easy with a woman..." Chekov looked as though he were plotting a course, thinking, but not concentrating very hard.

"Theoretically. I'm told they're deceptively complicated," Sulu smirked, "but you'd have to ask the Captain on that one, I wouldn't know."

"No?" Sulu shook his head, "Okay, but givwen that you do know about making luff to men, you will haf to tell me zhe protocol for how it is done."

"We're not objects floating in space, Pavel. We're people. There's no one equation to fit us into that will work all the time. Biology is different, it's...mutable."

Chekov took off his black shirt and sat down on Sulu's bed, the simple gold pendant resting just above his heart, "I did not do well in Biology classes."

"I'll tutor you." Sulu kissed at Chekov's breastbone, his hand on the Ensign's hips, fingers just beneath the waistband of his uniform trousers. "Biology is about change and adaptation. Every time we think we have an understanding of how it works, something new shows up and we have to rethink it. The angiosperms of Earth undergo a double pollination during seed formation, but that's not true for Andorian flowers. They adapted to a different situation." Sulu kissed the soft spots of Chekov's neck, tasting his pale skin as the Ensign sighed, "I want to watch you change over time. I want to adapt to you, like fuschia to a hummingbird."

A blush rose in Chekov's cheeks, his eyes closed and his face relaxed, "I haf no idea what zhis means." He pushed into each touch, squirming and fidgeting, anxious for more contact. "But please, talk about biology to me."

"The flowers of the fuschia plant are adapted to be pollinated by the hummingbird and only the hummingbird. The sweet nectar is located deep within the flower where only a hummingbird's beak can reach." They kissed, Sulu parting his lips and teasing Chekov's eager tongue with his own. "The flowers are described as pendulous," He took the Ensign's hand, placed it on his own erection, then cupped Chekov's hardness, gently massaging through the fabric of his trousers, "so that the hummingbird has to hover to get what it wants." Sulu took his own black shirt off and tossed it aside, "The red in the flower, the way it hangs on the stem like a bell, the nectar, it's all to entice the hummingbird to visit." He traced his fingers over the blush on Chekov's cheek.

Chekov attacked with a thousand kisses over Sulu's torso, but soon found himself pinned to the bed. "No fair using Judo!"

"It's perfectly fair. You will simply have to adapt." Sulu's kisses were slow and calculated, with just a little bit of a suck or nibble where the skin was soft and sensitive, "Anyway, the relationship is mutually beneficial. The fuschia gets pollinated and the hummingbird gets the nectar."

"I am zhe hummingbird?" His speech was lazy, his eyes half-closed as he reveled in Sulu's touch.

Sulu made a happy hum against the soft spot behind Chekov's ear as the younger man sighed and shuddered, "Today, you are the flower." He pushed his hips against Chekov's and made a soft, low, grunt. Sulu tore himself away from the young Ensign long enough to take off his boots, but when Chekov started to push himself up onto his elbows, Sulu pushed him down again. "Let me take care of you, Tigger." Chekov obeyed and put his hands behind his head as he waited. He unzipped and pulled off the Ensign's boots and socks, his hands then hovering over the fastener of Chekov's pants. Then, with as much restraint as he could muster, he slowly unbuttoned and unzipped the fly, swallowing hard as he pulled Chekov's pants off. He ran his index fingers under the waistband of the black boxer-briefs and found that his hands were shaking.

"Are you alright, Hikashka?" The young man's face was flushed bright red like rose petals on milk.

"Yeah." Sulu nodded and slowly peeled off Chekov's underwear, revealing his erection, pale skin and sandy curls. He stroked the inside of Chekov's muscled thigh, "God, you're beautiful."

Chekov swallowed hard, his voice shaking just a bit, "Now you. I want to see if you are like I imagine." Sulu nodded and shucked off his pants and boxerbriefs all at once, kicking them aside as he stepped out of them. "You are so...so handsome, so strong, not skinny like me."

"No," Sulu lowered himself onto Chekov, their erections rubbing against each other, hips rocking forward and thighs pressed together, "You're perfect." They kissed hard, Sulu tracing the tips of his fingers down the length of Chekov's body, stopping to press the pink nipple between his fingers. This made the Ensign squeak, which, in turn, made Sulu laugh. He continued to Chekov's hips, holding his firm buttock in one hand and squeezing.

"Nngh, Lyubimi-" He slipped into Russian and then stopped, seemingly mid-sentence and concentrated, "Before, I say these things in Russian because I do not know the proper words in English and I did not want you to know my filthy mind."

"This is not filthy or dirty or wrong. I do this with you because I love you, so much." Chekov nodded, his eyes closed as Sulu's hand moved to the beautiful pale penis next to his own. "Tell me what you want."

"Oh!" His rosepetal cheeks now matched his lips as his mouth opened, "I want...I want, I want..." What he said next was incomprehensible, spoken in rapid-fire syllables that, even if Sulu were a native Russian, would have been almost impossible to understand.

Sulu moved his hand back to Chekov's hip, "What? What do you need?"

"I want to feel you...inside my mouth, inside of me. I..." He panted and concentrated on the words, "I want... fucking you..."

"You're close, aren't you?" Chekov nodded emphatically, writhing on the bed, grasping and making a mess of the sheets, "I'm backing off just a little because you're so sensitive. I want you to breathe slow, breathe deep."

Chekov did so, regaining some of his control, "I want to be kissing your genitals. How is it said?"

"You want to go down on me?"

"Yes, yes, 'go down.' I want to go down to you- wizh you- on you- what you said. I will be slow, not too fast."

"Okay," Sulu whispered, and Chekov positioned himself between his lover's knees. Chekov examined Sulu's erection as though he were considering a chess move, first licking the tip and around the head, then placing the entire head in his mouth, sucking and tugging just barely. It was sloppy and too eager, but it felt good. "God, your mouth is perfect. Hngh. Geez, I wanna fuck you."

Chekov continued for a little while longer then pulled back as his big blue eyes met Sulu's gaze, "Okay, good. I like going down on you, feeling you in my mouth. Next is fucking. Show me how."

It should have come as no surprise to Sulu that Chekov approached sex with the same concentrated and eager effort as anything else he wanted to learn. He was a willing student with a breathless teacher, "Okay, Pavel," Sulu swallowed hard, "Lay down." He did so. "I'm going to take it slow and prepare you first. I need you to relax as much as you can, I don't want to hurt you. Talk about physics or something. I like that."

"Okay, relaxing." Chekov stared at the ceiling for a moment to try and think of something to talk about, "According to Mr. Scott, transwarp theory is based on the..." Sulu grabbed the lubricant from his bedside table and a disinfecting wipe from the drawer. He washed first, "Ai! Cold!"

"Sorry, it's a necessary evil. I don't want the coliform bacteria speech from McCoy. Please, keep talking. I love hearing you talk." Sulu applied the gel to his fingers and barely touched the skin, not quite ready to push in.

"Ai, Hikash- Oh! Eh, zhe principle zhat space is moving is contrary to zhe..." He carefully pushed in one finger and Chekov lost it, all thoughts of physics gone and replaced with an endless stream of Russian. Eventually, two fingers went in, slowly working around the cavity, gently opening him up. "Please, please, fucking please!" was all the English he could manage. Sulu removed his fingers and washed them with the cloth then very slowly worked himself in.

"Are you okay?" Chekov nodded, "Let me know if it hurts." Sulu watched his lover's face for any sign of pain or discomfort.

"Only a little," came the breathless reply, "but please, do not stop." He wrapped his legs and arms around Sulu, pushing against him when it was comfortable to do so. Soon, Sulu was completely inside and even Chekov's native language had gone from him as he arched and writhed, speaking in only nods and moans. Sulu thrusted, slowly at first, stroking Chekov's erection in the same rhythm, and then faster as the Russian pushed harder against him, wanting and eager. Chekov came first in an exclamation that sounded like prayer and Sulu watched his face as pleasure washed through it, "You are...so..God!" His own climax came soon after Chekov's, both grunting and moaning until it was on the edge of painful. Sulu pulled out slowly, half panting, half laughing, "Wow. God, wow, Pavel." He rolled over and held to Chekov, belly to back, like he were the most dear thing to him in the universe, because he was.

"Hikashska?"

"Yeah?" Sulu felt lazy and spent, too tired to shower.

"I haf been practicing something for you."

"What is it, Tigger?" He nuzzled and kissed the back of Chekov's neck.

"I love you, Hikaru."

Sulu grinned and held him tighter, "I love you, too."


	12. Afterglow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Is it obvious? Yes, yes it is.  
> Warnings: Checkup with Dr. McCoy, the inner workings of Kirk's brain, Cheerful!Chekov

McCoy grumbled at the swill the Federation called coffee. He drank it black from a bright red Ole Miss mug that had a garish blue Caduceus printed on one side. Sure, it was high in potassium and mildly stimulant, just like regular coffee, but it was a pale comparison to the what he used to have every morning when he was still married. Jocelyn liked the fancy overpriced stuff. It was too early in the day to open that wound, unless he was going to make it a God's Blessing and dump a shot of bourbon into his morning cup. He strongly considered it when the sickbay doors whooshed open to admit the cheerful Ensign Chekov, who ran in, hopped onto the nearest bed, and fidgeted. He was practically skipping like a schoolgirl.

"You're awfully cheerful for 0600, Ensign. What can I do for you?" He took another swig of coffee and set his mug down in favor of a tricorder.

"Yes, Sir. I am here for my physical, like you instructed."

"But you're not due for your physical for another month and a half." He pulled the date up from his sleep-deprived mind, certain that Chekov's birthday was at least six weeks away.

Chekov nodded, "Yes, Sir, but you told me to come in for a complete scan when-"

"Oh!" He suddenly remembered their previous conversations, "Yes, of course." He began scanning Chekov from head to foot, "Any ill-effects: discomfort, bleeding, that sort of thing?"

"No, Sir. Hikaru told me what to expect and it was like he said and now I am fine. I feel wery good!" Chekov, was, in fact, grinning from ear to ear and if anyone else had been this cheerful at him this early, McCoy would have sedated them.

But not Chekov. The kid had apparently just lost his virginity and had every right to be grinning at 0600. "Everything looks good. My primary concern, if you intend to continue these activities, is the-"

"Coliform bacteria, yes. Normal part of the body, always wash before and after, between, outside and inside. Hikaru told me all of this and he has cloths for washing." Chekov had his serious "I know what I'm talking about" face on and McCoy couldn't help but give a crooked smile.

"Tell Mr. Sulu I said 'Thanks for making my job a lot easier.' Congratulations, kid, now get outta here." He patted Chekov on the back and as quickly as he'd come in, the Ensign hopped off the biobed and ran out again with a quick thank you. McCoy chuckled, flopped down in his office chair and edited the entry in Chekov's medical file under "sexual activity" as he finished his coffee.

\---

Their duty shift was uneventful, boring even, but Chekov would not stop grinning. The Defiant had arrived two days early and was beginning its work to restore Memory Alpha to full functionality as the Enterprise crew prepared to leave orbit. Kirk worked on a PADD full of duty rosters and other things that needed his attention, but could not miss the Sol-bright grin of his navigator. _We lost a crewman yesterday. How can he be so happy? ...Chekov and Sulu missed the funeral last night. They should have been there. I hope they have a good reason._ "You seem in good spirits today, Mr. Chekov."

"Yes, Sir." He shot a quick glance over to Sulu and blushed.

It wasn't subtle in the least and in 0.2 seconds, Kirk figured out what the deal was, "Any reason, Ensign?"

"I am simply happy to be alife, Sir."

 _Uh-huh. Yeah. Subtle Chekov, real subtle._ "Aah, I see - as long as you're not distracted from your work."

"No, Sir."

"Glad to hear it." _Life goes on. I'll take Scotty something from my stash tonight. He needs it._ _I can accept 'lost my virginity' as a good reason, but only once. Ha, ha, 'only once.'_ _I'm happy for the little guy. I'm... kind of honored-_ _lost his virginity on -my- ship..._ _Whoa. Creepy moment. Don't want to think about seventeen-year-old Ensign who's like your little brother. I cannot count the ways in which that is wrong._ Kirk signed off on the last bit of work, sauntered over to the two helmsmen and put a hand on each man's shoulder. _I wonder if they'll let me do the wedding..._ "Let's get this Love Boat outta here." Sulu sighed and rolled his eyes while Chekov gave the Captain a confused look. "Set a course for Starbase 22."

"Aye, Sir." Chekov shook his head, and began entering the coordinates.

Kirk sat back in his chair, legs splayed out as usual and with his index finger to his lips. This was his "thinking" pose. _Hmm... I like my 'thinking' pose. I look really sexy when I'm thinking. At least that's what Gaila said...Fuck. She was on the Farragut. Yeah, I'll be drinking with Scotty later. Right, they'll want to know how fast to go. Warp four is good. I like how the deckplates vibrate at warp four. They kinda hum. I wonder if sex is better at warp four or warp six...Anonymous shipwide survey?_ "Estimated Time of Arrival at warp four, Mr. Chekov?" _Man, I gotta do something about this dry spell. Even Spock's starting to look good... McCoy's going to have to treat me for carpal tunnel if I keep this up much longer. Now, there's an option... nah - that's about as likely as me and Spock.._. _Three way? No. Way. In. Hell._

"At warp factor four, we should arrivwe in approximately four days, nineteen hours, and thirty-two minutes, Sir." _How does he do that so fast?_

 "Punch it, Sulu." _Chekov and Sulu, sittin' in a tree...I should send them a present. I like ice cream._

\---

Dinner turned out to be taco night on the Enterprise, with a wide array of toppings and fillings, some of which resembled leftovers from previous meals. Chekov's tray was a mess when he was done and he picked at what had fallen onto his tray while Sulu neatly finished his fourth taco. A brunette in a red mini with elaborately curled hair delivered an ice cream with two spoons to them, topped it with whipped topping from a bowl, and placed a cherry on top.

"Here ya go, boys." She smirked.

"What's this for?" Sulu asked.

She shrugged, "I dunno, the chef told me to bring this to you. There's a note. He won't say who it's from."

Chekov read the note aloud, "Congratulations, Mr. Chekov and good luck to both of you."

"That's it?" Sulu took the note and flipped it over.

The woman smirked, "Enjoy, boys." By the look on her face and the way she sashayed away, she didn't just mean the ice cream.

Chekov was already spooning ice cream into his mouth, "It will melt, Hikaru. Eat."

"Are we that obvious?" Sulu picked up his spoon and carefully ate the half-melted ice cream around the edge of the dish.

"What do you mean?" Chekov took the cherry off the top and set it aside.

"Nevermind. You gonna eat that?" He indicated the cherry with his spoon and took another bite of ice cream.

"No, you have it."

Sulu smirked, amused at his lover's unfamiliarity with English idioms, "Uh, right."

As they walked to Sulu's quarters after dinner, they ran into Kevin Riley. He had a data tape in his hand and a broad grin on his face, "I was hoping I'd see you two - I made a copy of this for ya. It's a compilation of Irish love songs- to set the mood, you know." He patted Chekov's shoulder and ran off to whatever duty station he'd been assigned to that week.

"...Thank you?" Chekov stuffed the tape into his pocket and they kept walking. He got five congratulations from various other crew members and a hug from Yeoman Rand. By the time they reached the privacy of Sulu's room, Chekov was very confused. "People are being wery strange today. Is it Walentine's Day? Did I solvwe the uniwersal equation in my sleep?"

"No, Tigger." Sulu laughed and kissed Chekov's nose.

Chekov was even more confused, "Then what?"

"It's you," he explained, "You're positively _glowing_."


	13. The Waiting is the Worst

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sulu gets injured on an away mission. This chapter is dedicated to my dear husband.

John Wilson was 191cm and 132 kilos of badass Starfleet-trained security muscle. He was trained in take-down techniques, crack shot with a phaser pistol, and had earned no fewer than five marksmanship awards during his years at the Academy. He was good at his job, so good, in fact, that he'd been assigned to the Enterprise on her five-year exploratory mission and had been promoted a pay grade not long after the defeat of the Narada. Yeah, he was _that_ Ensign Wilson, but everyone called him "Cupcake."

The Captain had given him the nickname some time ago, when he was a cadet and James T. Kirk was just some punk kid from Iowa. Now the lucky bastard was the Captain of the Federation's shiny new flagship and (and this was the irritating part), his boss. That meant, of course, that the name stuck. The only one that didn't call him "Cupcake," aside from Commander Spock, was the ship's navigator, one Ensign Pavel Chekov, whiz kid from Russia. They had both been running through the hallway, neither paying attention to anything but their destination when they collided like two objects in a physics problem. He'd heard the "Code C," but too late.

"Ensign Wilson! So sorry!" Chekov apologized profusely.

He helped the kid up and they continued running, "Headed to the transporter room?"

"Yes, Sir."

"Yeah, me too. What would the Cap'n do without us?"

"Die many horrible deaths, Sir."

"That's the truth." Chekov nodded and took his place behind the transporter control as Wilson stood on the pad. Two enlisted men arrived next, followed by Lieutenant Sulu, who wore his compact katana on his duty belt. Rumor had it the pilot and navigator were dating and Wilson would swear they made eyes at each other just before beam down.

\---

The waiting was the worst part. Chekov watched the little blips fade in and out on the screen of the transporter console, particularly the yellow one with the label LtSuluH. The planet's atmosphere created interference that prevented a solid and continuous lock. While he waited, Chekov did all he could to boost the signal, focusing on balancing the delicate transporter functions and trying to ignore the sick feeling of possibly losing Sulu. Hours passed and Chekov remained at his station, ready to beam the away team back to the safety of the Enterprise as soon as the order came. The signals were clear now and he watched the little blips, maintaining transporter lock. A yellow blip labeled CpnKirkJ finally came into view and the order was given.

"Sulu to Enterprise, five to beam up." Chekov engaged the transporter, slowly moving the sliders up to transfer them to pattern buffers and then back down to reassemble the away team on the pad. He returned with a battered Captain hanging on to one arm and barely conscious and with his katana extended, covered in some viscous brown fluid.

Wilson and one of the enlisted men took over for the Lieutenant, supporting the Captain with ease. Kirk grinned up at the burly man, "Aw, thanks, Cupcake. You're my hero."

"Just doing my job, Sir." They limped out, leaving Sulu and Chekov in the transporter room.

Sulu sat down on the edge of the transporter pad. Chekov rushed to him and smoothed the Lieutenant's hair, kissing the top of his head and holding him, "I was so worried, but you are safe home now, Hikarushka. I made sure you would come home."

"The Captain was surrounded by... I don't even know what they were, but they were an angry mob of something. I didn't think I'd need my sword, but the ionic interference in the atmosphere jammed my phaser. I'm glad Cupcake was there, he's a good guy - saved my ass and the Captain's both." Sulu stood up again and winced, clutching his side.

"You are hurt!" Chekov took his arm and led him down the corridor to sickbay.

"Pavel, I'll be fine. I just need to rest." Sulu should have known better than to resist once Chekov had locked his mind onto a goal. It was no use, he was determined. "But, I have to clean my sword!"

"Now is not the time for euphemism, Zaichik. Now is the time for going to sickbay." McCoy was treating the Captain and cursing something, but Chekov only caught the words "reckless" and "idiotic." Whatever the Doctor was saying, it wasn't nice, but the perverse Captain seemed to enjoy it. "Besides, you are too injured for sex." Sulu held up his katana, which was still dripping with alien gore. "Oh. Stay here." He bounded over to where Nurse Chapel tended to a sprained wrist and politely tapped her shoulder.

"Yes, Chekov, what is it?" She finished her work and dismissed the crewman.

"Mily Zaichik- Eh, Lieutenant Sulu, sorry, Lieutenant Sulu is injured-" She rushed to the biobed where the Lieutenant sat and began examining him with a tricorder.

"Dr. McCoy, I need you over here, now!" She lay Sulu down, taking the sword and carefully handing it to Chekov.

"Dammit!" He grumbled something Chekov couldn't hear and sedated the Captain before running to Sulu's bed. "Stand aside, kid!" He pushed Chekov aside who, wide-eyed and paler than usual, backed away in disbelief.

"What is going on?" Chekov craned his neck, but could only see Sulu's legs on the biobed.

"Brent! Get 'im outta here!" One of McCoy's medical technicians ushered the Ensign out of the room.

"What is going on?! Let me go!" He tried to pull away, but Lieutenant Brent held to him, firmly but gently directing him to a waiting area.

"Lieutenant Sulu's going to be fine, just wait here." Chekov pulled his elbow away and sat down in the hard chair.

The waiting was the worst part. There was nothing for him to do but pace and worry. He managed to find a towel to wipe off Sulu's sword and after he'd cleaned it, he pushed the retract button and continued his nervous pacing. He tried to think up warp theory equations, ways to improve the transporter, things they'd do together when they were off duty, but his mind kept wandering to the "what ifs." _What if he doesn't wake up? What if he is paralyzed? What if..._ He took Sulu's gold necklace out of his shirt and rubbed the symbol with his thumb, praying that his friend and lover would be okay. When the "what ifs" crept into his thoughts again, he gripped his hair and made a frustrated and angry grunt at himself. Lieutenant Brent passed by with a PADD in his hand, headed for McCoy's office. "How is he?," Chekov asked, but his throat was constricted with worry and he could hardly get the words out.

Lieutenant Brent sighed, "This is the tenth time you've asked in an hour. I told you, he'll be fine."

Chekov flopped back into the chair, fidgeting and with his head in his hands. A few moments later, Dr. McCoy came in and sat down next to him, one reassuring hand on the Ensign's arm. He stilled for a moment, "Sulu's gonna be alright. He's lucky you brought him in when you did. There was some internal bleeding and a couple broken ribs, but we were able to patch him up without any complications. He's sedated, but you can go see him now."

The young Ensign wasted no time and rushed to Sulu's side. He was sleeping, covers pulled up to his chest and the monitor beeping softly over his head. Heartbeat, respiration, all vitals slow and even with sleep. He picked up Sulu's limp hand in his own and held it, "I was so worried, Zaichik. When you wake up, I will be angry with you for not wanting to come to sick bay, but I will take care of you until you are better." He watched Sulu sleep for hours, just holding his hand and watching the breath move in and out of his mouth.

A little after 1800, Ensign Wilson walked in, carrying something in his large hands. "Hey, Chekov."

Chekov did not turn around; he was completely focused on Sulu, "Oh, hello, Ensign Wilson."

"I, uh, brought you something from the mess hall. I heard you were here with the Lieutenant and thought you might want a bite to eat." Chekov did not want to let go of Sulu's hand and kept his eyes on Sulu's relaxed face. "I'll just...set it over here when for when you're hungry."

He finally turned to face Wilson, "Thank you."

"It was no trouble at all," he replied.

"No, I mean to say thank you for taking care of him when I could not...on the planet."

"It's my job." Wilson shrugged his massive shoulders, "I mean, you beamed us out, didn't you?" Chekov nodded, "That's just what we do. We're crewmates."

"Yes," he agreed, "and thank you for the food also. You are wery kind. You are a good man."

Wilson smiled. He hardly ever smiled and the expression seemed odd on the massive security officer, "You're welcome. I like you, kid. Of the only two people on the ship that don't call me 'Cupcake,' you're the only one I like."

"I am?"

"Yeah. Hey, I gotta go. I'll see you around, Chekov. Let me know if you need anything." He nodded and they waved goodbye, both smiling.

\---

Wilson met up with some of his fellow security personnel in the rec room after dinner. "So is it true, Cupcake? Are they an item?"

"Shut it, Johnson." Wilson scowled and gritted his teeth.

"Aw, c'mon," Johnson smirked, "I mean, I never guessed Lieutenant Sulu was the type to like guys, but Chekov? Well, maybe he likes girls after all."

Johnson soon found himself up against the wall with Wilson's face mere centimeters away and his feet dangling, "I said, 'Shut it.' You wish you were half the man he is, you stupid sack of shit - and next time you're planet side, you remember whose hands are on the transporter controls. Am I understood, crewman?"

"Y-yes, Sir!"

"Is there a problem, gentlemen?" Spock's voice was cool and even as always.

"No, Sir." Wilson released the wide-eyed man from his grasp.

\---

Chekov had fallen asleep, his head resting on the biobed and still holding Sulu's hand when the Lieutenant finally woke up. He smiled, ran his fingers through those sandy brown curls and spoke softly in the dim light of sickbay at night, "Hey, sleepyhead."

"Hnngh...'Kasha, you are awake." Even half-closed, Chekov's eyes sparkled with pure joy when he saw that Sulu was okay. "You feel okay?"

"A little sore, but alright. I guess there won't be any raucous sex tonight, hmm?" His broad, drowsy grin was mirrored by Chekov's goofy sleepy smile.

"No, Mily Hikarushka. No Judo lesson either." Chekov laid his head on Sulu's arm, almost purring as he felt fingers comb through his hair. "Mmmm...we will have to wait until you are better."

He sighed, "I hate waiting. The waiting is the worst part."

Chekov nuzzled into him, "I know."


	14. Clear Communication

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chekov's mom can tell. She *knows* in the ways that moms know.

"Tigger, I'm not an invalid. I don't need all my meals delivered to me in bed." Chekov set the tray on the bed and removed the lid. The soup was an unnatural color of pink and it had a dollop of white cream in the middle.

He scowled, "I promised to take care of you, so I will take care of you. That means you eat, 'Kashka. There is tea and bread and borscht. Sorry there is no black bread. Black bread would be better."

"You made me borscht? How did you make borscht? I didn't know you could cook." He tried a spoonful with a little sour cream. There was the barest trepidation at having pink soup, but it was good and warmed him on the inside. "I like it."

"I cannot cook, so Nurse Chapel helped me. The chef was glad to finally know of something to do with beets." Chekov took his own bowl and sat with his legs crossed on Sulu's bed, "Eat."

"When I said that we should spend our day off in bed, this was not what I meant." His mischievous smile usually melted Chekov, but not today.

"Eat. You will not get better unless you eat." He continued his scowl, even as he ate his own soup, perched like a bird on the end of the bed. Sulu did as he was told and for the longest time, they just sat and ate without needing to fill the silence. When they were finished, Chekov gathered the dishes to return them to the mess hall and gave Sulu a quick kiss, which turned into a long kiss, which turned into a long and hungry kiss that Chekov could barely extract himself from. "No fair! No sexy thoughts until after you are better."

"Can't help it. You're just sexy. My primal instincts might take over any minute now." He flashed the mischievous smile again and saw Chekov waver a bit.

"No. Later. When you are well." Chekov took the hands that had wandered up into his hair and placed them into Sulu's lap. "Besides, I am talking with Mama today."

"Are you going to tell her?"

"I don't know. Not yet. No."

"We've been dating almost a month and a half now, you're going to have to sooner or later."

Chekov furrowed his brow, "I am not ready. Mama will not want to hear it! Papa will be upset."

"Pavel," He put a hand to Chekov's jaw, "Your parents love you. I love you. It's going to be okay, I promise."

"Promise?" Chekov's bottom lip stuck out a little, so naturally, Sulu kissed it.

"I promise."

The comm chirped on, "Uhura to Ensign Chekov. You have a transmission coming through. It's your mom. She keeps trying to set me up on a date with you."

Chekov sighed and Sulu grinned, "Thank you. Patch to Lieutenant Sulu's quarter's please."

"I hope you're both dressed," she relayed in perfect Russian.

"Yes," he replied in English, "No problem." He sat at Sulu's viewscreen and waited for the few seconds it took to patch the communication through.

"Pasha! So good to see you. How is my baby boy?" Mama Chekov had her unruly curls pulled back with one strand of hair hanging over her brow.

"Good. I haf been working on the transporters a lot lately, but I'm not working today." Thinking of things to talk about that didn't involve death or his relationship with Sulu proved a difficult task. "I made borscht today. Nurse Chapel helped me. It's not as good as yours or Babushka's, but Hikaru liked it. He is not feeling well today. That's why I am in his quarters - to bring him soup." _And not because I spent the night here._

"You are such a good friend and I'm so proud of you, Pasha, you're growing up to be such a fine young man. Now, about that Miss Uhura. She's smart, pretty, and speaks fluent Russian. Tell me why you have not been taking her to dinner, or have you?" Her amused smile looked much like her son's and, like him, once she'd set her mind to a goal, she did not let go of it. "I want grandbabies while I'm young."

"Mama! Lieutenant Uhura is vwery nice to me and we are good friends, but-"

"But you're seeing someone else." The smile widened. It was a statement. She knew because she was his mother and had that mother's ESP that could even reach through subspace, "Well, who is she? That Nurse Chapel you were talking about? What's she like?"

"No, Mama, not Nurse Chapel," He was in a corner now, no escape, "Someone else."

Mrs. Chekov was determined, "You're having sex with her, I can tell. So, who is she?"

"It's not...I- Mama..." He blushed hard. He didn't want to say it, but there was no avoiding it now, "Mama, I'm dating Hikaru."

Her face fell, "Oh, I see. Well, you're young yet. It's, uh, normal to experiment, just... keep your options open."

He squinched his face up. He'd just broken his mama's heart, dissapointed her, failed her. "Don't tell Papa."

"My little mouse, your Papa and I love you no matter what. We are proud of our boy and I'm sure..." She took a deep breath and forced a smile, "I'm sure Hikaru's a nice boy."

"He is a gentleman, Mama, and we take care of each other. I love him vwery much. One day you will meet him properly and you'll see." He felt tossed around by love. He wanted his mama to be happy, but he could not suppress his love for Sulu.

"Well," she'd screwed her courage to the sticking-place, "tell me about him. Who is this man that has stolen my son's heart?"

"He is the best pilot in Starfleet, probably the best pilot in the uniwerse. He likes plants. He's teaching me Judo and knows probably ewerything there is to know about old weapons. He's thoughtful and sweet, stubborn, gentle. I love him, Mama." He'd rather face the Narada again than this.

Mrs. Chekov sighed, "I'm not sure how I feel about this, little mouse, but...I just want you to be happy. I love you, Pasha, no matter what. Your father loves you, too."

"Love you, Mama." When the "End Transmission" screen came up, Chekov put his head on the desk, ever so slightly too hard. "Ow."

"That bad?" Sulu asked from the bed.

Chekov inhaled deeply and exhaled with a sigh, "Ai, ai, ai...Lyubimi, what am I going to do?"

"You're going to come over here and tell me all about it. Then, I'm going to kiss it all better." Sulu grinned, "That's an order, Mister." Chekov stuck his tongue out, but sidled up to Sulu anyway, laying his head on a strong golden brown shoulder.

\---

When the "End Transmission" screen came up, Mrs. Chekov put her head on the desk, ever so slightly too hard. "Ow." She sighed, but sat up and began her work, "Computer, access manifest of Starship Enterprise, NCC-1701."

"Access restricted," the tinny voice replied.

"Blya. Computer, access news articles related to Starship Enterprise." The computer chirped and pulled up thousands of articles, most of them about the ship's handsome young captain. She entertained a brief fantasy that made her feel just a little bit like a dirty old woman, but then continued working to find the information she was looking for. "Search articles for words 'Hikaru' and 'pilot.' Prioritize those with photographs. The search had narrowed to several hundred articles, including a biographical one from the San Francisco Chronicle. "Translate."

"San Francisco's own Hikaru Sulu was among the famous Enterprise bridge crew, youngest crew in the fleet, as the ship's pilot. A graduate of Starfleet Academy at the age of 21..."

"Stop." She skimmed the rest of the article, finally finding what she was looking for. "Computer, search San Francisco directory for Mitsuko Sulu."

"There is one Mitsuko Sulu listed in San Francisco."

"Computer, current time of day in San Francisco?"

"It is currently three minutes past 1900, Earth Standard Time."

"I know that, but is it daylight there?"

"Affirmative."

"Computer, patch in a transmission to San Francisco resident Mitsuko Sulu." The computer chirped and made the connection. Within seconds, there was the brown face of a woman not much older than she in the viewscreen. "Mrs. Sulu, my name is Mrs. Larisa Chekov. I hope I am not intruding with my call."

"Not at all, you must be Pavel's mom." Mrs. Sulu grinned, apparently pleased at receiving the transmission.

"Da, eh, Yes. I believe we met briefly at graduation. I am calling to talk to you about our sons."


	15. Formalities

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Letters to and from home, The Chekovs meet the Sulus, It's official.

Hey, baby,

Hope you are well and staying out of trouble. Kiko and Hana send their best. I got the strangest call from Mrs. Chekov the other day. She asked me a lot about you, when you knew you were homosexual, how I handled it, that sort of thing. I didn't realize it was taboo over there - or anywhere on Earth, for that matter. Weird. Anyway, she insisted on meeting me here in San Francisco this weekend and I must say I'm a little nervous. Wish me luck!

Love,  
-Mom

P.S. She asked me to ask you to keep this a secret. She didn't want Pavel to worry or something. I don't know.

\---

Dear Hana,

If you don't behave while Pavel's mom is in town, I swear I'll make your life a living hell. Don't think that because I'm out in space I won't know. I have my ways. Kiko will rat you out in a nanosecond. I'm watching you.

Pavel means a lot to me. I think it's for real with him - even more than with George.

Love,  
-Big Brother

\---

Dear Hikachu,

Honestly, you'd think I don't have any manners at all. Geez. I'll be good, I promise. I like Pavel, he's cute. Mom tells me he's really smart, too, smarter than you and Kiko put together. And I like his curly hair.  
He'll be adorable in Mom's wedding dress (since it won't fit you)!  
XD

Love,  
-Hana

\---

Dear Hikaru,

Hana's planning something. I don't know what it is, but I'm keeping an eye on her for you. Mrs. Chekov will be here tomorrow and mom is going nuts. I swear to goodness if she makes me wash the floors again, I'm going to scream. We dusted everything in the world yesterday. Mom is washing the walls. Send help.

In other news, I got accepted to a Biochem program at Stanford. It's not saving Earth or anything, but whatever.

Love,  
-Kiko

\---

Dear Hana,

I don't know what you're planning, but if you do something dumb in front of Pavel's mom, you are DEAD MEAT. I mean it!

Love,  
-Big Brother

Dear Kiko,

You have my permission to kill Hana dead if she does anything to embarrass me. I can't tell you how much Pavel means to me. He doesn't know it yet, but I think he's _the one_. Keep that on the down-low, willya?  
Congrats on the Stanford thing. I know you'll do great and I'm very proud of you.

Love,  
-Big Brother

\---

"Pack your bag, Andrei, you're going." Mrs. Chekov tossed a few things into her overnight bag and scowled at her husband.

He scowled back, arms crossed, "It's a phase he's going through, nothing more. I'm not going all the way to San Francisco because Pavel's having some kind of adolescent infatuation."

"Don't be petulant, Andrei. You should have seen his face." She crossed her arms and pursed her lips, "That's not the look of a boy who is going through a phase. That's the look of a young man in love. He reminded me of someone I know."

 Andrei stuck out his bottom lip, "Larishka-"

His pout and puppy eyes were ineffective. "Don't 'Larishka' me, Andrei Demitrievich Chekov. You are going to meet Mrs. Sulu and that's final." She uncrossed her arms and kissed Andrei sweetly on the lips, "Do you remember Moscow? When we met? You had the same look just before you tripped and spilled hot chocolate all over me. You were so skinny then."

"I was so embarrassed. It took me a solid week to get over that." Andre sighed and took the bag, "Fine, but only because you own my ass."

She grabbed his butt with both hands, "That's not all I own."

"Rrowr!" Andrei waggled his eyebrows, dropped the little suitcase and carried his laughing wife to the bed.

\---

"Hana, stop fidgeting" Kiko scowled at her little sister, dressed in too-bright pinks and oranges, her hair in perfect pigtails. Kiko herself had chosen a navy blue dress with white flowers on it and Mrs. Sulu wore her red silk shirt (for good luck) and black pants.

"I'm not fidgeting. Mom, tell Kiko I'm not fidgeting. I'm just nervous!"

"You're fidgeting, sweetie." The shuttle landed and Mr. and Mrs. Chekov eventually emerged, their bags in hand. "There they are."

Mr. Chekov handed a three large stems of peach and lavender gladiolas to Mrs. Sulu and Mrs. Chekov gave two black wooden boxes, painted in gold and red to the two girls. "Thank you for inviting us to your home, Mrs. Sulu." He bowed slightly

"These are lovely, thank you!" She smiled broadly and the two girls thanked the Chekovs politely. "I have a taxi waiting for us." The ride to the Sulus' apartment was just as polite, but awkwardly quiet.

The Chekovs peered out the windows, whispering to each other in Russian. "I do not mean to be rude, Mrs. Sulu. I was only telling my husband that it is lovely here. We did not have much time to sightsee at the graduation."

"Oh, thank you, Mrs. Chekov, but you can call me Mitzi" The arrived at the Sulu home, a modest flat on the second story of a wooden building in a working class neighborhood. "It's small," she explained as they ascended the stairs, "but cozy."

There was a shout from the kitchen when the door opened, "Shoes off!"

"My mother," Mrs. Sulu explains as she removes her shoes, "is a little old-fashioned." The Chekovs, a little unsure, followed suit. Dinner was a simple affair, roasted chicken with steamed vegetables and rice, but none of it had been replicated and Mrs. Ishikawa was a good cook. They made the kind of small talk all military families make, speaking of how proud they were of their sons, how they worried they were, and how much they looked forward to seeing them again.

It was the elder woman who brought out the rice wine in a pear-shaped ceramic bottle and shooed away the younger girls, "Nihonju, for our guests. Mitsuko, get the good glasses."

"I apologize again, Mrs. Ishikawa, for not bringing you a gift as well." Mr. Chekov bowed slightly to the elder woman.

She laughed, "I don't need anything but these two hands." Mrs. Sulu returned with four small ceramic cups, each of which was placed into a wooden box. The elder woman poured until both vessels overflowed and then picked up the cup, "To the safe return of our boys."

"Na zdrovyeh!" the Chekovs responded as they all shot back the cup of sake.

Mrs. Sulu picked up the box, "To Hikaru and Pavel."

"To Hikaru and Pavel, Na zdrovyeh!" They carefully drained the box. Mrs. Ishikawa refilled the cup and box again and Mr. Chekov proposed a toast, "To the Enterprise, may she fly steady and true - Na zdrovyeh!"

Mrs. Chekov held up the box of sake, "And to her Captain. May he keep her crew safe - Na zdrovyeh." They finished the fourth sake and, now that they were properly lubricated, Mrs. Chekov saw fit to get right to the point of their visit. "Mrs. Sulu, eh, Mitzi, I am concerned that Pavel does not know how to properly court a... someone. You see, it is customary for the man to ask the permission of the girl's father, but there is no girl, and, forgive me, but there is no father for Pavel to ask." She pursed her lips, "I was concerned at first. I did not want Pavel to rush into anything, but I have seen the look Pavel gets when he speaks of your son and I believe we can allow them to proceed."

"To be honest with you, Larisa, I think they've gone ahead without us." She felt her lips go numb a little and sat down, folding her hands in her lap demurely.

She nodded, "Indeed they have, but if it is as serious as I believe it to be... how to say this... I will remind Pavel that a gentlemen asks the parents to court a... another person. Should Hikaru ask to court Pavel, Andrei and I have agreed to give our consent."

"Is that all? I would love to have your son as part of our family!" Mrs. Sulu, to Mrs. Chekov's surprise, gave a big hug to the Russian mother and a kiss on the cheek to Andrei.

Hana came out of her room quietly, with a badly-wrapped present in blue and gold. "Mrs. Chekov? I hope I'm not interrupting. I wanted to give you something. It's not much, but I hope you like it. You can unwrap it now if you like." She handed the gift to her and bit her lip as she waited for it to be unwrapped. Inside was a framed picture of both young men in red cadet uniforms, smiling and happy. To the left, where Sulu stood was written "Hikaru" and "Pavel" was on the right of the frame next to Chekov. Between them and situated near the top center of the frame between their heads was a simple heart. "I hope you like it."

The Chekovs looked at each other and nodded. "Yes, thank you Hana."

\---

Dear Pasha,

Hope you are well and not running into Klingons every day. Regarding Hikaru, I would like to remind you that you are a gentleman and a gentleman always asks the family first before courtship.

Love you,  
-Mama and Papa

\---

Dear sweetheart,

Pavel's parents are a bit odd, but very generous. they brought me flowers and chocolates in fancy wood boxes for the girls. They're very proper, though, and it's probably a good idea if you want to ask them before dating Pavel too seriously. Keep out of trouble,

Love,  
-Mom

\---

To: Ensign Chekov, Pavel A. 656-5827B USS Enterprise-NCC 1701  
From: From Russia With Love Gift Shop

[This is an automated response]

Dear Mr. Chekov,  
Thank you for your recent purchase at From Russia With Love Gift Shop.

Your order number is 945-0090-33425B7

Ship To:  
Mitsuko Sulu

710 Powell St, San Francisco, CA 94108

Same-Day Delivery Requested

Invoice:

Stolichnaya gift set  
(1) Stolichnaya - 1 Litre  
(1) Glass decanter - 1 Litre  
(2) vodka glasses, style #4997

Total: 78.45cr  
Payment recieved from acct# *************953F

\---

Dear Mrs. Sulu,

I must ask two things of you. I would ask in person, but we will not have visual communication with earth for another four weeks and I cannot wait that long to ask. The first thing I ask is that you accept my apology. I did not think to speak with you before Hikaru and I began our courtship and I am deeply sorry for this. The second thing I ask is your consent, as I wish to continue with a formal courtship of your son. Since we are both bridge officers and helmsmen, we are socially quite compatible and should we decide to eventually marry, I will be able to provide for him. I care for Hikaru deeply and hope you accept this gift as a token of my affection for him.

Sincerely,

Pavel A. Chekov  
Ensign, USS Enterprise  
NCC-1701

\---

Dear Mr. and Mrs. Chekov,

I'm not sure how to go about this, but I would like to ask your permission to continue seeing Pavel. I am very much in love with him. He is the star I steer by. He has been...

"Computer, erase letter." The computer chirped its compliance, "Sulu to Uhura."

"Uhura here."

"I need your help writing a letter." There was a long silence, "Please?"

"Alright. I'll be there in a minute."

\---

Dear Mom,

Lieutenant Uhura says I should send a gift to Mr. and Mrs. Chekov, but I have no idea what to send. What do you get your boyfriend's parents? A fruit basket? It's like he's from a whole other planet sometimes.

Love,  
-Hikaru

\---

Hey sweetie,

I sent them some good sake and cups from Mr. Yakamoto's shop down the street and a ceremonial tea set. I hope that's okay. It was a little expensive, but I think it's worth it for your sweet Pavel.

Love,  
-Mom

\---

Dear Mom,

You're the best. I'm sending a letter to them today, so wish me luck. I'm really nervous. All my love to everyone.

Love,  
-Hikaru

\---

Mr. and Mrs. Chekov,

My name is Lieutenant Hikaru Sulu and I serve as an officer on the bridge of the USS Enterprise alongside your son, Pavel. I consider him both a respected fellow officer and a dear friend. We have recently grown very close and I am now writing to most humbly request your consent to enter into a formal courtship with him. A modest gift has been sent from my family and I only regret that I am not able to give it to you in person. Please accept this with my most sincere offer of friendship and affection.

Yours Sincerely,

Hikaru Sulu  
Lieutenant, USS Enterprise  
NCC-1701

[message translated by Lt. N. Uhura]

\---

Dear Pavel,

There's nothing to apologize for, sweetheart, of course you may! We are thrilled to have you as a part of our little family and only hope you feel the same way about us.

Love,  
-Mitzi

\---

Lt. Sulu,

After much deliberation, we have decided to give our consent for the courtship of our son. We most graciously accept the gifts of rice wine and tea and wish to return the offer of friendship between our two families. I trust that you will care for him and love him as we do.

Safe Journey,  
-Mr. and Mrs. Chekov


	16. Your Destiny is your own

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chekov has his doubts.

Chekov took his pawn up a level, sat back in his chair, steepled his fingers, and furrowed his brow as his opponent moved his bishop across the board and took the pawn. He was three moves from checkmate. The pawn was a sacrifice. He'd set the trap, the bait had been taken, and he moved his knight into position. Chekov had been raised on Kasparov, drank in Chigorin like most kids drink milk, dreamt in bluffs and strategy interlaced with gravity and warp in sine and cosine waves advancing and retreating across the board of thought and memory. Two more moves. His opponent took a moment to consider his next move and then, shifting the black queen down three levels, trapped the king in check-mate.

"Check-mate." Spock inclined his head slightly to Chekov, who returned the gesture with a sharp nod.

"Good game, Commander." They reset the board for another game.

Spock's expression changed slightly, a look that suggested deep analysis and it made the Ensign no little uncomfortable. "It is my understanding that you are engaged in a romantic relationship with Lieutenant Sulu. Is that correct?"

Chekov flushed deeply, "Yes, Sir. It is something of a puzzle, Sir."

Spock quirked an eyebrow, "A puzzle, Ensign? How so?"

"In Russia, we do not date. That is to say, my family is wery traditional and instead of dating, there is... courtship. It is more than dating, less than engagement...hard to explain, Sir, but Lieutenant Sulu and I have this now." Chekov scowled, frustrated at his own inability to put into words what he was trying to convey.

"I understand. Vulcan marriages are arranged, it is far more formalized than most humans are accustomed to. Ritualized marriage and courtship customs provide a framework under which logical decisions regarding mate compatibility can be made." Spock folded his hands in his lap and quirked an eyebrow, "But I do not see your 'puzzle,' Ensign."

"Mama and Papa agreed to this arrangement, but I did not think they would like me hafing a boyfriend and maybe husband later. They would not haf wanted zhis for me, so why agree to it?" His scowl deepened, "Is not logical, as you say."

Spock's eyebrow returned to level, "Hmm."

"And it is only two months into our mission, thirty-eight days since Sulu and I are dating, and only six days since...eh..." He was still uncomfortable talking about it in public, let alone to his superior officer.

"Since the nature of your relationship intensified." His expression and the tone of his voice did not change. Mr. Spock merely stated the facts as he saw them.

"Yes, Sir." Chekov fiddled with a pawn, "It is too fast. I do not understand why so fast my parents would wish this for me, why so fast I am making such serious decisions. I am too young. Maybe it is a mistake and I am only thinking of sex. Maybe there will be someone better later."

"Love is often illogical." It didn't register. Spock may as well have said it in his native tongue for all it made sense to Chekov.

"Sir?"

"I once asked my father why he married my mother. He told me that a human woman was the logical choice for an ambassador to make so that he would more fully understand human culture and thus be better prepared to do his job. I accepted this answer and pushed aside the love I felt for her so that I could find the peace that logic offered." Chekov listened intensely, leaning in to process every syllable. "After her death, I learned that they had married for love. I only regret that I was unable to..." Spock's thin lips tightened and relaxed, "to tell her that I love her."

Chekov sank into himself and allowed salt tears to streak his pale cheeks, "I am so sorry. I should haf been faster. It is my fault she is gone. I was too slow." He shook his head and sniffed, "Too slow..."

"I do not blame you for her death. You performed admirably as a Starfleet officer, far exceeding that which is expected of those who bear your rank." Chekov nodded, but the knot of guilt still sat in his stomach. "I am... honored to serve with you. As for your puzzle, Ensign, a mentor of mine once told me to put aside logic and to do what feels right. It is for that reason I am on the Enterprise today. Love and logic were at odds with one another and I chose the first because it was the right thing to do, if not the most logical."

Chekov wiped the tears from his face and sniffed, "To be near Lieutenant Uhura?"

"No," Spock responded with his usual calm, "The Lieutenant and I parted amicably before we began our mission and have maintained a professional relationship since. There is...someone else. As for Lieutenant Sulu and yourself, my advice is to do what is right."

"But...it is so fast." Chekov put the pawn on the board.

Spock paused for a moment, "Your destiny is your own, Ensign. It is for you to choose the proper path." Chekov's brow remained furrowed, "Sometimes when faced with a difficult decision such as this, I focus on the path that lies a head during my daily meditation. Perhaps physical activity will help you focus your mind."

\---

Chekov's feet pounded the deckplates. _Warp ten is possible, in theory, corresponding to infinite welocity. A wessel occupying ewery point in the uniwers_ e _could instantly trawel to anywhere, ewen to another time. Current technology does not prowide sufficient energy to break transwarp barrier..._ The corridors of the Enterprise started to blend together, each hallway like the last. The rhythmic thud of shoes on metal was hypnotic. _Hikaru Sulu...Pavel Chekov... Pavel Andreievich Sulu. Hikaru...what is his middle name? Hikaru Chekov. Hikaru and Pavel Chekov-Sulu. Sulu-Chekov? Hikaru... Hikaru..._ The syllables in his mind corresponded with each step until the name was like an alien chant. Soon, even that faded, leaving his mind clear and open. Thoughts of transwarp theory trickled back into his consciousness and he imagined being everywhere and everywhen at once. He saw himself, his own life as it might be.

He saw Sulu at the helm most often. Then he saw him in full dress uniform with a smile brighter than any star, waiting at the end of an aisle where Mrs. Sulu wiped away tears and the Captain stood tall and proud, a slim black PADD in hand. He saw that same smile as golden brown hands held a tiny kicking person. He imagined Sulu with grey hair, sweating as he worked in the garden he'd most certainly have wherever it was they chose to retire.

His focus shifted slightly and he imagined a life without his favorite pilot. He'd have a career in Starfleet. He'd rise to Lieutenant, then eventually to Captain, maybe even Admiral, but without Sulu...it felt as empty as the black between the stars.

He found himself outside Sulu's quarters, chiming the door. "Enter."

"Hikaru-" He kissed the older man hard, pulling him to the bed.

"Whoa, Pavel!" Sulu laughed, "I forgot what it was like to be seventeen. You're going to wear an old man out if you keep this up."

Chekov pulled Sulu's black shirt over his head, "You are not old." He pulled his own shirt off, his favorite grey Academy marathon shirt, and tossed it aside. "But you will be wery handsome in grey hair, digging in your garden." Sulu continued laughing as Chekov assaulted him with kisses, flipping the smaller man to his back and pinning him beneath his strong arms.

"You're so weird." He kissed Chekov's nose, "Which I love about you, by the way. I take it you had a good run, then, Uke?" He held Chekov down and as the younger man strained to move, he grinned.

"Yes." He twisted his thin body and Sulu relinquished his hold, allowing Chekov to break free. "What is your middle name?"

"What?" Sulu blinked a few times as he processed the question, "Uh, Walter."

 _Hikaru Walter Sulu-Chekov_. "Okay."


	17. The Monkey Mind

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Klingon attack, Chekov performs admirably, but can't stop thinking.

Brown and white flesh pressed together, fused with sweat and the heat of two bodies in love. Sulu's muscled shoulders flexed as he pushed Chekov into the mattress. "Pavel, you are...I love you."

"Mmm," a lazy smile spread across his lips, "Hikaru." A blush bloomed in his cheeks and across his chest as black-clad legs tangled together and pale fingers traced over Sulu's strong chest.

Sulu held him close, locking his mouth over Chekov's, thrusting his tongue in to flick across and curl around the other, each growing harder with each moment. "God, I want you." Another stiff-lipped kiss pressed the younger man into the thin standard-issue pillow and when he released, Chekov replied in words unknown but with a meaning that mirrored the older man's. "Talk dirty to me in Russian."

"Only if you talk about flowers, Hikasha." He brushed his fingers over Sulu's red-brown cheeks then let his hand fall to rest beside his head.

Sulu took the pale hand in his, interlacing their fingers, "Terran angiosperms undergo a double fertilization in the formation of seeds."

 _I feel your hard cock pressing against me. Take my pants off now, you fucking tease. God, I want to fuck you._ It was as natural as breathing to say these things in Russian, easier when he knew Sulu couldn't understand because he didn't have to be embarrassed.  _Maybe I'll teach you something. I'll teach you to say "Fuck me, Pavel." And then I will fuck you for once. I want to feel you around me, your mouth, your ass, I don't care which..._ The room was suddenly bathed in red light and the siren sounded just before something shook ship, tossing them out of bed. "Chyort voz'mi!"

"Lieutenant Sulu, you're needed on the Bridge. Ensign Chekov, report to transporter room three."

Curses overlapped in Russian and English as they quickly donned their clothes and rushed out the door in opposite directions with a quick kiss and "I love you." Chekov took his place behind the transporter controls next to Mr. Scott when the Captain handed him a duty belt and phaser pistol.

"I need you with me to access their navigational systems. C'mon." Chekov took the duty belt and strapped it on, bewildered. "Two to beam to the Klingon ship." The familiar tingle of the transporter passed in an instant and they found themselves inside the cargo hold of the dimly-lit vessel. They ducked between two tall stacks of crates and Chekov's heart raced as he listened to the Captain's hurried explanation, "We find a terminal, access their navigational systems and uplink to the Enterprise. Hopefully we can get the location of wherever it is these attacks are originating."

"Why nawigation?" He'd meant to say "Why me? Why now?" but he couldn't, not in front of the Captain.

"Most information for the least amount of effort - not as guarded as other systems." The Captain indicated a terminal just across the expanse of the hold. "There's two of them, one left, one right. I'll take the left one, you get the one on the right. On three. One, two, three!" There was no time to think. Chekov sprang to his feet, phaser set to kill, aimed, and shot at the Klingon to the right. He missed and the roaring beastly humanoid was soon closing in, spitting something most certainly rude in the Klingon tongue. Without thinking, he took the Klingon's wrist and knocked him off balance, leaving him surprised and prone in the few moments before Kirk made the killing shot. "Chekov! The terminal, now!"

He snapped to his work, examining the computer terminal in question. The symbols were not entirely foreign. He remembered a few things from the hours he spent playing Klingon Attack 8, where you could play as the dreaded Captain Worg. The game interface was in Klingon, overlayed with English, so it was a challenge, but one he overcame after the first couple hours of play. He muttered a blessing to the game designers for their strict accuracy and between that and the universal translator, he hacked into the system and was able to create a link between the two ships within minutes. "The link will be severed in thirty seconds. It's all I could do, Sir."

"Good enough." Kirk flipped open his communicator, "Get us outta here, Scotty!" The transporter swirled and tingled and in a few seconds they were on the bridge of the Enterprise. Chekov took his place at the helm as Kelso stepped aside. Likewise Spock relinquished the Captain's chair to Kirk as they took another hit.

"Shields at seventy percent, Captain!" Sulu shouted.

"Evasive maneuver delta-delta one."

"Aye, Sir!" Moving in concert, Sulu and Chekov swung the ship to starboard and then back like a snake ready to strike. A short burst of full impulse put the Enterprise aft to aft with the Klingon D7 and with what was no less than a hotdogger move, Sulu flipped the ship arse over teakettle and Chekov fired at the Klingon port nacells with forward phasers on full.

"Hailing frequencies open." The intense face of a Klingon came on the viewscreen. "Commander Kor, you are in Federation space and in violation of the-"

"Captain James T. Kirk." The Commander scoffed, "How am I to leave your precious Federation space when my ship has been disabled? Allow us to make repairs and we will return to the Empire."

"You have one hour. End transmission." The viewscreen switched back to the aft view of Kor's ship. "Chekov, access the files uploaded from the Klingon ship."

"Accessing, Sir." Chekov opened the files and quickly organized them by frequency of use and stardate. "There are twenty-eight vwisits to a planet known as Organia at the edge of the Neutral Zone - all wizhin the last six months, Sir."

"Thank you, Ensign. Continue monitoring their situation." The next hour went by with a palpable tension in the air, like a bowstring ready to break, and Chekov found himself unable to think about anything but weaknesses in the Klingon D7 hull and the long list of coordinates Commander Kor's ship had visited. There was a pattern there he didn't yet see.

"Enemy vessel now capable of warp, Captain," Spock had no sooner said it than the Klingon Commander hailed the Enterprise.

The Captain stood to face his adversary, "Commander Kor. I guess you'll be on your way. I hear Organia is nice this time of year."

The Commander did not flinch, "Indeed. Perhaps I will visit there on my way home. Good day, Captain Kirk."

"Good Day, Commander Kor. Kirk out." The viewscreen switched back to the Klingon Ship as it warped away in a streak of red toward the Neutral Zone. "Chekov, resume course to Starbase 22, warp factor six. We're overdue." He sat back in his chair, thinking about something with one finger pressed to his lips.

"Aye, Sir."

\---

"It's past 2200, Pavel, come to bed. Maybe we can pick up where we left off earlier." Sulu tugged at Chekov's uniform, but the younger man continued staring at the PADD, brow knitted tightly in thought.

"There is a pattern in this data from the Klingon ship, but I cannot see it yet. Lieutenant Painter is better with stellar cartography. Maybe he can help." Chekov continued manipulating the data, trying to work out the puzzle.

"Dick Painter is probably sleeping - as you should be, Tigger. Come to bed." Sulu took the PADD from Chekov's hand and set it on the table, "C'mon. It can wait 'til morning."

"But-" Chekov protested.

"It can wait. Bed now." Chekov sighed and dressed for bed, too wired to sleep, too tired for work. He lay down next to Sulu, curled up inside his arms.

After a long while, the numbers did not stop flowing through Chekov's mind. The images of the ship, the Klingon that could have killed him, flashed into his thoughts again and again, "I can't sleep. My thinking will not stop."

"You are having a monkey mind," Sulu mumbled sleepily.

"Huhn?"

"Monkey mind. It means your mind refuses to be still, wanders everywhere like a monkey." Sulu ran his fingers through Chekov's curls, "It happens to the best of us."

"I think I have monkey mind all the time, 'Kashka." He closed his eyes and felt the strong fingers play through his hair. "I do not know how to make it be quiet."

"Yes you do. You run." Chekov suddenly realized that he'd been too caught up in the information he'd uploaded from the Klingon ship after his duty shift and hadn't had his post-combat run. "But it's too late for running now and I don't want to lose my favorite pillow."

"I am not your pillow."

"Yes, you are." Sulu pulled him in tighter, eliciting a grumble from Chekov, "Now, close your eyes and listen to the sound of my voice. You cannot stop the monkey mind by holding to it tighter. Let it go. Allow yourself to have whatever thoughts bloom in the river of your mind and let them float away. Breathe in, slowly." Chekov's chest expanded, "and slowly let the breath out. As you breathe in, find a place in your body that holds tension and as you breathe out, let that tension release." Sulu brushed his fingers over the back of Chekov's neck and over his jaw. "Breathe in... breathe out. When your mind returns to thinking, recognize it, name it, and let go. Breathe in... breathe out. Release the tension in your jaw. Breathe in... relax your legs as you breathe out."

Chekov imagined his thoughts blooming like waterlilies and floating away as his lover spoke. He breathed in when Sulu said to and exhaled when he said breathe out. He lost track of the minutes and felt his own body heavy upon the mattress. Sometimes a thought appeared as though far away, like a ghost or the boats he used to watch bobbing around the San Francisco horizon. Then there was nothing but his breathing and Sulu's soft voice before he was pulled into the gravity well of sleep.


	18. Execution of Wit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kirk may not celebrate his own birthday, but there's no reason he can't throw parties for his favorite Russian helmsman.

_Brown hair - long brown hair, sciences division, about 170-173cm, nice butt, enlisted...Mc-something. Not McCoy, I couldn't handle two of those. McPhee, McFarland, McFarlane, McAnnon, McAllister - that's it._ "G'morning Crewman McAllister."

She beamed and batted her eyes, "Good Morning, Captain!"

 _Security? No...engineering, one of Scotty's. 184-185cm. Ensign. Big nose...Shit, what is his name? Harper!_ "Ensign Harper."

"Morning, Cap'n!" They exchanged nods and kept walking.

 _I know this one! Deltan Lieutenant. Her name is Ilia and I know that because she turned me down in my second year at the Academy._ "Good Morning, Lieutenant Ilia."

"Good Morning, Captain. Ensign Chekov wanted to see you about the files he uploaded from the Klingon ship." Kirk would swear she had a hint of flirtation in her smile and somewhere in the back of his head, he hoped her vow of celibacy was wearing a little thin.

 _Nope, won't do it._ "Thank you, Lieutenant."

"I like him. He's so smart and funny. Why hasn't he made Lieutenant yet?" She had a great smile.

 _That smile should be illegal or they also should take vows of not smiling because...damn. I'm not gonna last five years._ "I'm sure he will soon enough." Kirk smiled and continued his walk to the bridge. _Kelowitz...Freeman...wait, who's that guy? Security, taller than me, sandy brown hair, enlisted...Shit. I can't remember. When in doubt, use the rank._ "Morning, Crewman."

"G'mornin' Cap'n!" __

 _Compton! Compton is his name. Fuck. Here comes Lieutenant Galway - pretty blue eyes._ "Morning, Lieutenant Galway, how are things in the lab?"

"Not bad, Captain. I'd better get back to it, though." She smiled and glanced over her shoulder at him as she walked away.

 _That was definitely flirting. I'm really, really, not going to last for five years of this. Can't tell Bones, either. He'd just tell me to jack off and get the hell out of his office. I'm gonna visit him!_ Kirk turned a corner sharply and walked into sickbay like he owned the place. "Bonesy! Where are ya? I got a problem." He barged into the CMO's office without knocking and McCoy raised an eyebrow, "You know you look like Spock when you do that?"

"Whaddya want? I'm busy." McCoy growled.

"I got a problem, Bones. Don't you want to hear about my problem?" Kirk hopped up onto his desk and took the PADD from his hand, "Emergency Treatment of Post Traumatic Stress Disorder in Vulcans: A Case Study - This is good stuff, Bones, are you gonna publish it?"

"Of course I'm gonna publish it, but I have to finish writing it first and I can't do that when you're sitting on my desk. Now, unless you have some sort of physical problem, you have a duty shift on the bridge to get to." He was grousing in the way he always did, grumpy but not mean.

"I'm always on duty, Bones, I'm the Captain - and I do have a physical problem..." Kirk grinned, "in my pants. I haven't had sex since two days before the attack on Vulcan. I think I'm gonna die!"

"Only because I'm going to kill you if you don't get out of my office! There's lubricant in the drawer over there, jerk off, suck it up, and quit pestering me." McCoy took his PADD back from the Captain and made a shooing motion. It didn't work.

"I like it when you're bossy. C'mon, Bones, the corridors are full of attractive Lieutenants and Ensigns and Crewmen between the ages of 21 and 35. It's not fair. What I wouldn't give for a full Commander with a cute butt."

McCoy let a crooked smile twist across his mouth, "There's always Mr. Spock."

"Don't even joke about that, Bones."

"Is there anything else, _Captain_ , or can I finally get back to work?" McCoy sipped from his Ole Miss mug, his eyebrow arched.

"Yeah, senior staff meeting on the bridge at 1300 hours - Don't tell Chekov. It's super secret. Double-plus top secret security measures, Doctor." Kirk winked at his best friend and gave his best mischievous grin.

"His birthday?"

"Shh! Top Secret. Be there." _He loves me. He really does - in that platonic guy-friend kind of way, of course - not that I wouldn't kiss him. I'm stable in my masculinity and he's got plump girly lips. But, y'know, he's Bones. Yeah...I gotta get laid._

"You're an infant."

"Does that mean you'll be there?"

"Yeah, now get out!" McCoy hid a smirk under the grumpy façade that Kirk had learned how to see straight through.

"Okay! I'm out! Bridge - 1300." He put a finger to his lips and headed back toward the bridge, grinning at his own cleverness. _"_ Lieutenant Kelso! I have a top-secret mission for you. This is a matter of the utmost alpha-one secrecy."

"Yes, Sir?"

"I've got Chekov working on the data we retrieved from the Klingon ship. I'm going to send him to stellar cartography to work on it at 1300 and I need you to keep him occupied for at least an hour." _I am so clever. This is going to be the best eighteenth birthday party ever! Shipwide rations of ice cream and cake._

"Yes, Sir. He's been consulting Lieutenant Painter on that. Between the two of us, we can keep him busy for as long as you need."

Kirk patted Lieutenant Kelso's shoulder, "Thanks." _Excellent - mwahahaha! My evil plan is coming to fruition. I couldn't have planned it better if I were Iago, the sneaky bastard. That dude was so in love with Othello. They frikkin' got married right there in the play:  
_

 

 _Witness, you ever-burning lights above,_

 _You elements that clip us round about,_

 _Witness that here Iago doth give up_

 _The execution of his wit, hands, heart,_

 _To wrong'd Othello's service! Let him command,_

 _And to obey shall be in me remorse,_

 _What bloody business ever._

 _  
And then Othello totally says yes! If that weren't so fucked-up, I'd want to use that if I ever got married. HA! Hell, I can't even get laid. Oh, hey, the bridge! "Let him command..." And my chair! I love my chair._ _Quick glance at Uhura's legs...check._ _Damn, I love those uniform dresses._ "Status report, Mr. Spock?"

"We should arrive at Starbase 22 in approximately five days, three hours, forty-two minutes, Captain." The Vulcan stepped aside and allowed Kirk to sit in the Captain's chair.

 _That's approximate? Mine. My chair, minemineminemine._ "Steady as she goes."

The shift passed uneventfully, but Kirk couldn't help looking at the ship's chronometer in anticipation. At 1245 hours, Scotty came to the bridge with something very important, right on schedule. "I'd like you to know, you're interruptin' my lunch hour, Cap'n. I cannae run the ship when me own warp core is runnin' out o' dilithium, if you know what I mean."

"Scotty, you brought this to me. You can have lunch when you get back to Engineering." At exactly 1253, McCoy walked in. _Perfect_. It wasn't unusual to see the Doctor on the bridge, particularly when they were flying free and there was nothing going on in sickbay. Kirk looked over Chekov's shoulder with a PADD in hand. He knew the kid's work was still in progress and it was all very well done so far. The only fault he could find was that it was unfinished, "Since we're arriving at Starbase 22 in five days, I'm going to need this finished in two. Take it to Painter and Kelso in stellar cartography, see if they can help you figure out this gap here. Take a lunch while you're at it, but be back in an hour"

"Aye, Sir." Chekov jumped to his work quickly and without question, touching Lieutenant Sulu's shoulder as he passed. It was an unsubtle, but sweet gesture everyone chose to ignore. Their relationship had only improved their efficiency at the helm and for a fleeting moment, Kirk considered playing matchmaker to all the helmsmen.

 _Hansen and Haines? No. Haines is married. Stiles is more his type anyway - dunno what his deal is with Spock, though. Hrmm..._ The door to the turbolift whooshed closed, "Computer, secure bridge, authorization code alpha-alpha-one, Captain James T. Kirk."

"Voice authorization confirmed. Bridge secure."

"Is that really necessary?" McCoy folded his arms across his chest and glowered. Even his facial expressions seemed to have a Southern drawl.

"Yes. So, what are we getting him for his birthday?" Kirk rubbed his hands together, as excited as if it had been his own birthday party, except that Jim Kirk didn't have birthday parties.

"A fine scotch whiskey!" Scotty replied enthusiastically, "And perhaps some choice 'technical manuals' if you catch my meanin', Cap'n."

"You are not giving him porn." Kirk scowled at the Cheif Engineer, "Next?"

"You could get him a nice vodka, perhaps, or a Saurian brandy?" McCoy suggested.

"No, no, no. We can't all get him booze - he'll think we're a bunch of alcoholics. Besides, his parents got him a case of it - an epic amount of vodka. I had to approve the delivery." Kirk paced across the room with his finger over his lips, deep in thought.

"Besides," Sulu offered, "he'll complain if you get him the wrong kind and I'll be the one who has to hear about it. Don't ever get him Polish vodka - that's an hour-long tirade."

McCoy raised an eyebrow, "Who has Polish vodka?"

"Lieutenant Kelowitz," Sulu replied.

"I'm gonna need you to focus, people." Kirk continued to pace across the bridge, "We're definitely having a party with cake and ice cream. That's a given. He's also getting the day off - that goes for you, too, Sulu. Is there any way we can get him a real cake?"

"Nurse Chapel is skilled in the culinary arts, Captain." Spock had finally spoken. Kirk had half-expected him to say that the whole thing was frivolous and emotional and human. "Her plomeek soup is quite satisfactory."

A jealous scowl flashed across Uhura's face and was gone, "I was going to authorize a long video transmission home, but I need your approval, Captain."

"Ooh! That's good. Approval granted. Spock, what are you getting him?"

"A chess board, Sir."

Kirk nodded his approval, "Sulu?"

"I'd rather not say, Sir." Sulu blushed.

"Oh, right, of course." Kirk tapped his finger to his lips, "Scotty? -And if you say porn and booze, I'm busting you back to Lieutenant."

"Keenser and I were thinkin' he'd like his own transporter repair tools. A man can get right possessive when another man handles his magneton scanner." Scott rocked on his heels and raised his eyebrows.

"Why does everything you say sound like a double entendre?" Kirk asked.

Scotty shrugged, "It's not my fault yer mind's in the gutter, Sir."

The Captain sighed and shook his head, "Bones?"

"Birthday presents are supposed to be a surprise. I'm not telling you." McCoy's arms were crossed over his chest and his feet were fixed to the deck in a solid and stable stance. Kirk had studied his best friend's body language over the years and knew this meant he wouldn't budge no matter what.

 _Stubborn._ "Alright. I'll find out, you know."

"The hell you will." McCoy growled.

 _Game on, Bones. Game. On._ Kirk's grin was that of determination and as they finished planning the birthday bash of the century, the Captain began plotting ways to pester the information out of his CMO.


	19. Let the Past Fall Away

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chekov has misconstrued the actions of the senior staff and crew and is feeling a little homesick, but Sulu makes it all better.

They walked together from the bridge, but Chekov's jaw was tight and his fists were balled up at his sides. He didn't speak all the way to Sulu's quarters and when the door whooshed closed, he tossed the PADD onto the desk a little too hard. "I argue for thirty-fife minutes with Kelso about the proper algorithm to use - and zhen twenty minutes to get lunch and I am late returning to bridge!" He kicked the end of the bed, "Also, eweryone is whispering behind my back. They think I do not notice, but I do. And you! You don't even ask me 'Oh - how is ze Klingon ship? You haf a good time almost getting killed!?' - I am going running."

Sulu opened his mouth to say something, but Chekov was already gone. He ran after the young Ensign, but there was no catching up. "Pavel! I-" He sighed, "...Shit."

Chekov returned an hour and a half later, his uniform soaked with sweat. "I can use your shower?"

Sulu watered the miniature rose on his dresser, "Yeah. Go ahead."

Chekov undressed in the shower and came out with a towel around him, his jaw still tight. He did not make eye contact, "Why did you not ask me about my mission?"

"You were so busy. I didn't want to bother you." Chekov had been upset for hours and Sulu felt a sharp pain when he realized he'd partly been the cause of it. "I'm sorry. I thought they wanted you to operate the transporter and when I found out you'd beamed over to the ship, my heart stopped. If anything happened to you- I didn't want you to think I thought you couldn't handle it."

"I miss home. I miss my little Obninsk. You will think me a baby, but I was so afraid, I wanted Mama to hold me, to say it is not real, to say 'It is just a dream, Pasha,' or..." his laugh was a sharp huff, "or maybe, 'You play too many wideo games, Pasha.' But it was real. The Klingon was so large and was meaning to kill me, but I remembered what you showed me. I made him fall and the Captain shot at him." He sniffed, "You helped me to sleep, but nobody said that it will all be okay. Nobody said 'You are safe here.'"

"Please don't be mad. I thought you were okay." He pressed his face into his hands, "I didn't want treat you like a kid. I figured you'd bring it up if you needed to. I'm sorry, I fucked up." When he looked up again, Chekov was sitting on the bed slouching, his head hanging down. "What do you need?" Chekov just shrugged. Sulu sat hip to hip with his lover and ran his fingers through the brown curls. "I love you." Chekov only nodded, "I can't tell you you're safe here. We're out in space. One wrong hit from an enemy ship, an exotic disease, a systems malfunction and we're goners. Even if we were back on Earth, I couldn't guarantee that the sun would rise the next morning. I can't tell you it will be okay, 'cause I don't know whether it will be or not. What I do know is that every moment I breathe, I want to live in that moment the best way I know how - because I love you." The younger man said nothing, "It's dumb and overly romantic, I know." Chekov sniffed and tears fell from tightly closed eyes.

Sulu tilted his head up, but he turned away again, "Look at me, I cry like a child wanting his Mama. I want to be strong, bravwe, like you and zhe Captain, but I am only a scared boy. I do not belong here!"

"Hey," he wiped away the tears and smiled, "you belong here as much as I do, as much as any of us. It's okay to be scared. I mean, first off hours I had after the Narada, I cried like a baby. In fact, I went and saw my mom and just cried until I couldn't anymore. I'd just lost George. I thought about quitting Starfleet, but then there you were at graduation and you made me laugh and... I couldn't bear the thought of doing anything with my life other than flying this ship with you. I had to let the past fall away so I could live each moment completely with you, near you, there on the bridge. I'm still surprised you let me kiss you."

Chekov landed a chaste kiss on Sulu's lips and withdrew. "You do not think me, eh...a silly boy?"

"No." He laughed and returned the kiss, "Of course not." The next kiss was longer, softer, lips opening just slightly.

"I am eighteen in a few days."

"I know." They lay down, slowly kissing, reverently tracing fingertips over each others' arms and chests.

"Do you want to know what I want for my birthday?" They kissed so lightly that lips barely brushed together. "I want..."

"Yeah?" Sulu's hands made their way across Chekov's back and over his narrow hips.

"I want a goldfish."

"You want a goldfish?" Chekov nodded in response, "Seriously?"

"Da. A goldfish." He looked as though that were the most reasonable thing to say as a prelude to sex, "I nehwer had a pet. I think, maybe if you help, I can haf a goldfish and it would not die."

"I'm really better with plants."

"Then I want a plant - something that will not die from my black thumbs." He kissed Sulu's bottom lip, licking it with a quick flick of the tongue.

"Okay," Sulu chuckled, "sure." They kissed again, long and slow, rolling over so that Chekov lay beneath, his towel barely on, and Sulu held himself centimeters above, more beside than on top. Chekov's erection grew, but Sulu's hands only went as far as his sides and hips and thighs. The wanton moan of the younger man reminded Sulu of his own hardness growing against the fabric of his uniform. He stripped off his shirts, taut muscle flexing under tanned skin, and resumed his ministrations. To him, Pavel Chekov was a holy being, a sacred body and a beautiful thing. Each time lips touched pale skin, he thought it a sacrament and he felt blessed to have the honor.

"Oh, Hikaru." He whispered the word so that it hardly sounded like a name, but a prayer. "Hikaru..." Sulu divested himself of his boots and trousers, leaving his black boxerbriefs for Chekov to remove. When the older man's erection was revealed, the younger ghosted his fingers over it, brushing lightly over veins and head then reaching down to hold his testicles like they were precious and delicate, "Oh, Hikaru..." Sulu always washed him before, but this time he warmed the cloth and took his time. Even this was an act of reverent love. Sulu lubricated his fingers and watched his lover arch and blush as he played around the entrance. "...want you, 'Kashka..." Chekov groaned at one finger, moaned at two, and the act of stretching him seemed to be taking almost too long. "...want you..."

"You're so beautiful." Chekov whined a little as Sulu removed his fingers and wiped them clean, but relaxed again when he began pressing in, slowly, slowly as a blush bloomed more deeply over Chekov's pale skin. "God, I love you."

"Da...Da - more, please, please more." Sulu pushed farther in, up to the root, and in a gentle rhythm began making love to the younger man beneath him. They'd done their fair share of fucking since that first time, fast and eager, sloppy and hard, but this was nothing like that. They relaxed into each other, Sulu's strong hand stroking Chekov's marble-hard erection. He looked for all the world like one of those bleached-out ancient Greek statues come to life, like perhaps one of Apollo's young lovers. But Sulu was no god, he felt his mortality keenly out here in space, and it was this that linked them even more strongly. They didn't speak. They didn't need to. There was only soft grunting as the tempo of their love increased.

Sulu came first this time, but Chekov was not far behind, warm semen spilling out onto muscled stomachs with a softly spoken "Oh!" He came like an epiphany, radiant from where he lay on Sulu's bed. There they lay, sweaty and sticky from their lovemaking, not wanting to part from one another. They eventually did and with the same reverence as before, Sulu washed his lover and then himself. They slept in the nude that night, waking at odd hours to make love again and each dreaming of the other.


	20. Happy Birthday Chekov!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's Pavel Chekov's 18th birthday and Sulu has a very special present for his Tigger.

It was his day off. Well, it _had been_ his day off until the Captain asked for the report he'd been working on since the frantic away mission on the Klingon ship. They were docked at Starbase 22 and he'd planned on a long and lazy day in bed with Sulu. It was his birthday, after all, and he thanked God Sulu happened to have the day off as well. But Sulu had gone to the arboretum to tend to his orchids and wouldn't be back for hours. Orchids, he had learned, were fussy plants. He did not want an orchid for his birthday. It wouldn't stand a chance against his black thumbs.

 

He looked at the PADD that held his report and sighed, hoping that it was satisfactory. He'd worked hard on it and collecting the data had nearly gotten him killed. Chekov jogged down the corridor, not as fast as he usually ran, but faster than walking. He was supposed to be there at 1500 exactly, which meant he had three minutes to get from Sulu's quarters to the turbolift and from the turbolift to the briefing room. The lift would take only ten seconds. Walking would take him seven minutes, and running at full tilt would get him there in under a minute, but leave him out of breath, so he picked up the pace just a little, barely making it into the turbolift as the doors closed. "Deck six." The Ensign in the lift with him was a curvaceous brunette with big brown eyes and perfect breasts. Chekov stole a glance and then faced forward, not wishing to be impolite.

 

"You're giving your report to the Captain today?" Her smile was pretty, too, but not as nice as Sulu's.

 

"Eh, yes, Ma'am. Right now, in fact." The door whooshed open and he gestured for her to proceed before him.

 

"Wow, you don't see manners like that anymore. My name is Gloria." She extended her hand, which he took as he bowed politely just like his Mama taught him to do. "Oh!" she giggled, "You're Russian, right?"

 

"Yes, Ma'am, not far from Moscow." He wanted desperately to break off the conversation and run to the Briefing Room, but to do so would be terribly rude.

 

"I'm on my way to the Briefing Room, too. Maybe you can walk with me. If I'm with you, I won't be late." She smiled and Chekov had to admit that it was a pretty smile. "I've heard a lot of things about you."

 

"Oh?" She took his arm and he swallowed hard, hoping that Sulu wouldn't be jealous.

 

"Yeah, like you can beat Commander Spock at chess and that you and Lieutenant Sulu are going out." She laughed, "I swear that if the Enterprise ran on rumors instead of dilithium, we could go all the way to the far end Delta quadrant in no time flat!"

 

He tried to push back the urge to write up an equation that solved for how much energy would be required per rumor at a given number of personnel. _You'd have to account for fluctuation of the number of rumors circulating at any given time..._ "I haf not yet beat Mr. Spock at chess and Lieutenant Sulu and I...eh...well,"

 

"It's alright if you don't want to say. It's none of my business anyway - that's just what I've heard." They arrived at the Briefing Room door, two minutes late by Chekov's wrist chronometer, "Well, here we are! Thanks for walking with me."

 

"You are welcome." He allowed her to proceed before him and when he entered, the entire senior staff and then some shouted:

 

 **SURPRISE!!**

 

Chekov thought for certain he was going to have a heart attack and was grateful to see Dr. McCoy standing next to the Captain, just in case his heart really did seize up. They'd decorated the entire briefing room with streamers and a big banner that read "HAPPY BIRTHDAY CHEKOV!" in bright red, happy letters. There was a big chocolate cake with candles and a table full of presents. Sulu was there, grinning as wide as he was. "You lied to me! You said you would be in ze arboretum!"

 

"I did no such thing. I stopped by there to mist the orchids and then came here." He pulled Chekov into the room and sat him down in what was usually Kirk's chair.

 

They all sang a surprisingly on-key rendition of "Happy Birthday" and then Kirk lit the candles on the cake, gesturing excitedly, "Cake first, then presents. Now make a wish!"

 

Chekov closed his eyes and thought of everything he could ever want, _I wish to spend a long and happy life with my Hikaru, if no harm will come of it._ His babushka taught him the last part, to trick whatever evil spirits might be listening. It was a silly superstition, but... _just in case_. They cut the cake, dividing it evenly amongst them, with only Spock refusing a piece. It was rich dark chocolate and moist with icing that wasn't too sweet. He took his time enjoying it, noting how Lieutenant Uhura made soft moaning sounds with each bite. "It is good cake, not from ze replicator!"

 

"Nurse Chapel made it." McCoy replied, "She sends her regards and regrets that she couldn't be here."

 

"No, no, is okay, tell her I liked it wery much!" The Doctor acknowledged and was then pushed out of the way by a very anxious, very excited Captain.

  
"Now presents! I'm Captain, so he opens mine first!" Kirk shoved a PADD with a big red bow wrapped around it in front of the wide-eyed Ensign. "It occurs to me, Ensign, that you're taking up too much room on my ship, so I've given you a new room assignment. These are your orders to pack up and move as soon as possible."

Chekov saw the room number and smiled, "Thank you, Captain!" He showed the PADD to Sulu, who already knew. They'd finally, officially, be rooming together. The requisition form for an additional bed was notably absent. Spock's gift was next, a 3-D chess set in white and red stone.

"It is marble. The white from Earth and the red from Vulcan. I ask only that you allow me the honor of an occasional game."

Kirk's jaw dropped, "Spock, that was-"

"A gift from my father. I now give it one whose ability surpasses my own."

"But..." Chekov was completely flabbergasted, "I lose ewery time!"

"That is true," Spock explained, "but I was not as skilled at eighteen years of age as you are now. With practice, you will surpass me."

"Thank you, Mr. Spock!" He got tools from Scotty, engraved with his surname, and a bottle of Zubrowka from Lieutenant Kelowitz. Chekov winced, but thanked the Lieutenant anyway. _Polish wodka, feh._ When he received his gift from Dr. McCoy, the Captain looked as excited as anyone to see what it was.

"What is it, Bones? What did you get him?" He bounced excitedly beside the chair where Chekov sat, "Open, open, open!"

"Yes, Sir. I'm opening it, Sir!" Chekov rushed the object out of its silver wrapping, tossing the bow aside. It was a slim paper book, its title in bold Cyrillic print,"Thank you, Doctor. Zhis is wunnerful!"

"What's it say?" Kirk insisted.

"It is 'Nine Humorous Tales by Anton Paflofich Chekhof' - a relatif of mine!" He smiled, "Wery funny stories."

"It's not much." McCoy was being modest, "I hope you like it."

"Yes, Yes! Wery much!" He was ten times as generous with his thanks as each member of the crew had been with his or her gift. The Captain was speechless.

Uhura gave him a PADD with the authorization code for a long transmission home, "No V's in the authorization code. I made sure of it." He thanked her profusely.

Sulu's gift was, of course, a plant. "It's a _Chlorophytum_ \- a spider plant. Almost impossible to kill." Forgetting himself, Chekov threw his arms around Sulu and planted a big, wet kiss on his cheek.

Just before the situation slipped into awkward, Kirk clapped Chekov on the shoulder, "Your parents sent something. It's in the cargo bay." Chekov followed close behind the Captain, both curious and excited about whatever it was his parents had sent. It was a big crate, about one meter square, and locked. "They sent a card as well." He handed a white paper envelope to the Ensign who opened it as fast as an envelope could be opened, completely ripping it apart. The card had a picture of his family on the front, taken the Christmas before he'd been admitted to Starfleet Academy and inside was a short note, written in his mama's neat script:

Dear Pasha,

Hope you are having a happy birthday. Know that we are all so proud of you - more than I can say. I worry all the time about you and hope you are not lonely out there in space all alone. We considered getting you "Klingon Attack 9," but since you are actually in space and living the real thing, it seemed absurd. There's enough of what's in the crate to share and it's the real stuff, so be careful. Don't overdo it like you did on your sixteenth. The code is the same as the last ten moves in the first chess game you won against your Grandpa Dimitri.

Love you,  
Mama and Papa

Chekov patched in the code and opened the crate. Wide-eyed, he pulled out a one liter bottle of real Russian vodka, Stolichnaya, and a black laquered box, intricately decorated in gold and red. He closed and locked the crate again, sitting himself and setting the bottle on top of it as he untied the ribbon from the black box. Inside was a set of six carnelian red vodka glasses and a matching decanter.

"Pavel, those are beautiful!" Uhura remarked.

"So..." Kirk interjected, "you're sharing, right?"

McCoy smacked the Captain's arm, "Don't be rude."

"Ow!" Kirk scowled at his CMO, who returned the scowl with a hard Southern glare, "Okay, sorry!"

"Thank you, eweryone." Chekov kicked his legs, fidgeting a little, "I don' know what to say. This is... ze best birthday I could haf. And...eh, it is not because of ze gifts - zhey are all wunnerful, but it is because eweryone thinks so nice of me - no, eh, not right." He shook his head, trying to get the right words out in English, "Because you are like family."

"Oh, Pavel!" Uhura couldn't help but wrap her arms around him and hug. He laughed nervously and blushed a little, thinking of when he'd kissed her weeks ago. "You're very, very welcome. Thank you for being you."

"Captain, Starfleet regulations dictate a certain number of off duty hours per seven-day period. By my calculations, Ensign Chekov and Lieutenant Sulu have not yet fulfilled those hours." Spock raised his eyebrow just slightly, barely inclining his head toward the Captain.

"Oh! Right. You're free to go, Ensign, Lieutenant." He nodded sharply toward Chekov and Sulu, "The rest of you get back to work. We have a ship to run." Each responded in the affirmative and headed for the turbolift, leaving Sulu and Chekov behind. Kirk lingered for a moment, patting both of them on the shoulder, "You kids have fun. I gotta go mind the store." The wink and smirk indicated that he knew exactly what they'd be having fun doing with a bottle of vodka, a new room assignment, and only one bed.

\---

It didn't take long to move Chekov in. He didn't own a lot of things and those few things he did own didn't take up much space. By the time he'd put away all his clothes and birthday gifts, the little room was starting to feel much more like home. He talked for an hour with his family back on Earth, telling them all about the real cake and the all the wonderful presents he'd received. They were impressed with each one and laughed loudly when he showed them the bottle of Zubrowka, deciding that Kelowitz meant well, even though it was Polish vodka and therefore clearly inferior. They even held part of the conversation in English so Sulu wouldn't feel left out and though they were both a little sad when the "End Transmission" screen came up, Chekov felt a little less homesick and Sulu felt a little more like part of the family.

"I like your folks. They're really nice." Sulu planted a kiss on Chekov's cheek.

The Ensign grinned, it had been a good day, full of cake and ice cream, friends and family - a perfect birthday, "Zhey like you Hikaru. We haf been togezher maybe six weeks? It is not long, but maybe I think they want you to stay wizh me...for a long time."

"For what it's worth," Sulu rested his head on Chekov's shoulder, nuzzling his neck and kissing the soft spot just above his collarbone, "I want to stay with you a long time - maybe forever. It's too early to think about getting engaged or anything, but I like what we have now and I'd like to keep doing it."

Chekov kissed the top of Sulu's head, "Da, 'Kashka. I like zhis wery much."

"Do you want your real present now?"

"Is it a goldfish?" Chekov asked with his usual enthusiasm.

Sulu chuckled, "No, it's not a goldfish. It's something else. Come to bed." He pulled the Ensign toward the bed and, both laughing, fell into it with the Lieutenant beneath and blushing. "Uh... I'm not sure how to say this, so I'm just going to say it. I want to give you me for your birthday."

"But already I haf you!" He smooched Sulu's nose, still grinning.

"That's not quite what I mean." Sulu bit his lip and looked away for a moment, "I want you to take me. I want you...um, I want you to fuck me instead of the other way around like we've been doing it - if, you know, that's something you want to do and if it's not then forget about it."

"Really?" Chekov considered for a moment, "I thought you liked being in charge of things. I like when you are in charge. Maybe one time we play 'Captain and Ensign' and you give orders to me."

"You'd like that?"

He nodded so that his soft curls bounced, "Da, da, yes. I am always excited when you sit in zhe Captain's chair."

"Okay, yeah. We can do that. But today I wanted to give you what you gave me the first time. I've never, you know, been the bottom. I dunno, it's a control thing, I think. But with you, I think I could. I want to." Chekov furrowed his brow and tightened his lips. He was considering something, calculating the variables, "When I was falling toward Vulcan, I closed my eyes and thought about you. If I was going to have a last thought, that's what I wanted it to be. When I opened them again, there you were in the transporter room like an angel and I just... could trust you, completely. I'm not afraid to put my life in your hands, so, y'know, the sex kind of pales in comparison."

"Okay."

"Okay? Just like that?" Sulu wrapped his arms around Chekov's waist, pulling him in a little.

"Da." He was certain that he wanted to, but there were other factors to consider, "I hope I am not bad at it."

"Just do what you'd like me to do to you and I think that'll work alright."

"Okay." Chekov gave him a smooch and then suddenly found himself unsure as to what to do with himself. "Wait, wait...eh, washing first. You always wash first." He took a cloth from the bedside drawer and carefully washed his lover inside and out, throwing it to the floor next to the wastecan when he was finished. He straddled Sulu, and then lay chest to chest with him, kissing deeply and running his hands through the older man's hair. Sulu couldn't help but laugh as Chekov expressed his wanting in an onslaught of eager hands and kisses. Two brown and steady hands caressed a long, white back, finally settling on a tight and muscled ass. He pushed Chekov to him so they lay hip to hip, their cocks growing harder with each push and grind. "This is how it is? You want me fucking you?"

"Yeah." Sulu rolled his hips upward, grunting as he pressed his erection into Chekov's stomach.

"I put my fingers in you first." He took out the lube and squirted it onto his fingers. He got a little too much and it dripped onto the sheets, but he just shrugged it off. They could wash the sheets later. He wiggled his fingers, noting how slippery they felt against one another. _Reduce shear wiscosity. Applied stress is parallel or tangential..._ "Ready, 'Kashka?"

"Yeah," he whispered. His eyes were closed and his breath was slow and controlled.

Chekov found the hole and but pulled back when Sulu inhaled sharply, "I do not wish to hurt you!"

"No, no. I was just... startled. Please keep going."

He petted Sulu's stomach with his dry hand and pushed the first finger in, wiggling it around. He seemed to like it, so he pushed in the middle finger and listened to his lover moan. If two was good, three must be better, so the ring finger followed as Sulu shouted, "God, Pavel! Unngh, yes!" and pushed himself against the long pale hand, holding Chekov's wrist and guiding him in. The experiment concluded when Sulu wanted more than his fingers could give and even though he exhaled in what seemed like relief when Chekov extracted himself, he asked for more. "Please, Pavel, I want you to take me."

Chekov took more lubricant, this time frowning when he dripped a bit of it onto Sulu's stomach, and slicked up his own and then his lover's erection. "I take you. I am... _" Fuck._ He spat out in Russian, "It feels good?"

"Yeah," Chekov pushed himself in, a little too hard and a little too fast, "Nngh!"

"Sorry, sorry! Do you want me to stop?" He neither advanced nor retreated, waiting to know the best strategy before proceeding.

Sulu controlled his breathing, even breaths in and out, "No," his voice was a throaty growl, "keep going. Fuck me, Pavel."

"Okay, I will go slower. Slower for you, Hikarushka." Chekov rocked back and forth, "Da, da, slow for you."

The Lieutenant's even, controlled breathing began to quicken, now interlaced with sighs and moans, "More."

"More, yes." He pushed in a little farther, "Hngh. So...so... it is so tight for me. Feels good."

"Yeah, you like it?" Chekov had been concentrating so hard on controlling his speed, he'd forgotten to stroke his partner as Sulu had always so lovingly done to him. Sulu took the Ensign's hand and guided it back to his erect and wanting penis, the younger man working hard to split his attention.

"Is good, is..." He'd lost the English for a moment, the words issuing forth in lazy Russian, _You are so good, so tight. I love fucking you._ He pushed and fucked and stroked, his tempo like a metronome that only increased at his lover's command. "Oh, 'Kash-" was the only warning before he came. Sulu hung on to his control for a few moments and then relaxed his body, arching into the orgasm that surged through him and spilled out onto his stomach. Chekov groaned as he withdrew, still hard and reluctant to break contact. "Now, I will wash you."

"No. Shower." He cleaned the majority of his cum from his stomach with a pair of dirty underwear and dragged Chekov to the sonic shower. The hum of it was soothing, but the younger man did not soften. "You're still hard."

"I noticed," he fondled himself a little and scowled. "I cannot help it."

"It's okay." His voice was low and husky, "You liked fucking me, Uke?" Sulu stood behind, reaching around to grasp his lover's erection.

"Da, Hikasha," he whispered, "Felt so good to be inside you."

"Maybe we'll do it again some time. Would you like that?" Chekov only nodded, as he let out an unmanly squeak, "What do you want now?"

He forgot his English, _I want you to fuck me hard against this wall. I want you to suck me 'til I come._

 __"You have to tell me in English, Uke." He put his free hand on Chekov's stomach and pulled him closer, "Tell me what you want."

"I want...eh, against zhe wall - to fuck me. Zhen going down to me. No, on. I want you going down on me - Shit!" He let out a frustrated grunt, "I forget my English, sorry."

"Shh..." He ran his hands over pale shoulders, "It's okay. You want me to take control?" Chekov nodded, "I won't take you dry. I won't hurt you. Gimme a sec, okay?" The door to the shower opened and slammed shut as Sulu dashed out and Chekov pressed himself against the wall, eyes closed and hands over his head. The door slammed again and Sulu was there behind him, kissing the soft skin at the base of his neck.

"Bite?"

"I don't want to hurt you." He suckled his lover's skin, lips and tongue soft and gentle.

"No, no, no, it will not hurt. It will feel good." His breath quickened, "I want you to make a bruise on me. You will not hurt me. It will feel good. Pozhaluista, 'Kashka, please."

"Okay." He lubed his fingers and pushed the first in as he sucked a little harder on Chekov's shoulder.

"More. Now. Please." He tilted his hips back, pushing toward Sulu's hand. He felt a second finger go in and groaned with pleasure. "More."

"Now?"

"Da. Now. More. Please, fucking now. Please, now!" Sulu quickly lubed himself and started to push in, the head only barely inside. "More, 'Kasha, hard please."

"I don't want to hurt you." He whispered.

Chekov whined, "Pleeease!" Sulu carefully watched his lover's reaction, trying to judge how much was too much, but he kept begging for more, harder, until he was being slammed against the wall with each thrust. Sulu came with a growl, practically a roar, but Chekov held back. "I cannot hold too long. I want your mouth, 'Kasha." Sulu turned him around so that his back smacked against the wall and knelt down, swallowing most of the length of it as he ran his fingers through the brown curls, teeth barely grazing over the ridge of the head and tongue undulating beneath as lips wrapped tightly around the shaft. Chekov shouted and pulsed his life's seed into his lover's mouth, watching him suck and swallow the salty fluid.

They collapsed on the floor of the shower, panting and laughing as the walls hummed. They scrubbed themselves quickly and were clean after about a minute, still laughing and kissing as they tangled naked together in their bed. "Happy birthday, Tigger."

"Thank you, 'Kashka." Chekov wrapped himself around Sulu, his head on the older man's shoulder. "I love you."

"I love you too, Tigger."

"Maybe I can haf a goldfish for Christmas?"


End file.
